


Don't Let Me Look Terrible

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Daryl has gender feels, First Kiss, Friendship, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Love Confessions, Racism, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Some Humor, Violence Against Walkers, clothing as therapy, gender feels, happy reunions, makeup as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:19:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 26,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Glenn tries to draw him into a discussion about ideal clothing they would want to become walkers in, Daryl's gender issues come to the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically me trying to jell my feelings re:Daryl and my headcanon of him being anything but cis. Also, the whole walkers in fancy clothes thing came from yunglapras on tumblr during their liveblogging of the walky dead. That jumpstarted this whole thing.

_"Turn soft and lovely anytime you have a chance."-Jenny Holzer_

**

“Holy shit, Andrea, Daryl, look at this!” Glenn peeked over the counter and out the window of the department store. “Look at those geeks.”

The blonde and the redneck looked in the direction Glenn was looking. Andrea had to control herself from laughing hysterically. There was a group of walkers wandering around the mall but they were dressed like they were going to a fancy-ass party. A couple were in sharp-looking tuxes, and others were dressed in expensive looking gowns. It was so ridiculous and grim at the same time.

“I'm pretty sure that's Chanel.” Glenn pointed to one that was wearing a tweed jacket and skirt combo accessorized with a few strands of pearls that looked too nice to be fakes. 

“How the hell would you know that?” Daryl grumbled. He wasn't too amused by the prospect of walkers so close. Hell he wasn't too amused by the fact that they'd traipsed all the way to this damn mall. There wasn't anything worth looting in it. The one sports store had been thoroughly raided except for some packs of freeze-dried food which Glenn had insisted they should take. Eating “Astronaut Ice Cream” sounded like a piss-poor distraction from the fact that they could all be moments away from death and worse. Not to mention, seeing all the fancy clothes left on the mannequins pissed Daryl off royally. Looking at the dresses covered with shiny bits and threads made him want to set them on fire.

“I know fashion. Well, a little. Enough to know what's what. Chanel stuff has an iconic look.” Glenn said, and the older man scoffed. 

“I think you're right.” Andrea whispered. “Lets get out of here before they see us.”

Slipping out without being noticed by walkers was a bit of a feat. They slunk around the corners of the department store to the exit that led to the parking lot. Once they were outside, they took off with a brisk jog towards the quarry that was their new home. Glenn and Andrea were still adjusting to that new reality, Daryl was used to it. Camping in the quarry was a step up from the trailer/meth den that he'd shared with his brother Merle.

“You know, those guys had the right idea. If I'm gonna be wandering around dead I'm gonna want to do it in style.” Glenn said as they walked back to the quarry. He pointed to his outfit. “I mean, this is comfortable, but I want to look sharp when I die.”

“Well we could find you an Armani suit or something.” Andrea laughed. 

“Exactly. What about you?” Glenn asked the older woman. She thought about it for a second, then grinned.

“A floor length mink coat, a string bikini, five inch stilettos, and a bunch of diamonds.” She smirked as she imagined herself in that outfit. That would be the ticket. “If I'm going out because of a walker, I'm gonna do it looking like a sexy bitch.”

“That's pretty over the top. Very Lil' Kim. Honestly if you're gonna be wandering around trying to chomp on people, it would be the look.” They weaved through the trees that signaled the edge of the quarry. 

“Exactly. I've always wanted to go all out like that.” Andrea shrugged. “I'd probably snap my ankles wearing those kinds of shoes before I could attack anyone.”

“That would be a good thing for anyone left alive. What about you?” Glenn turned to Daryl who'd been conspicuously silent. “If you become a walker, how do you want to be dressed?”

The redneck made a derisive sound and sped up, going ahead of them. 

“The hell's with him?” Glenn asked Andrea. The blonde shrugged. She didn't know how to read the man any more than Glenn did. 

**

Daryl settled into the chair on top of the RV. Being on night watch meant being alone, and he liked that. Even his brother was starting to wear on his nerves. He examined the arrows he had left for his crossbow. If he couldn't find more soon he'd have to make some. 

The first couple of hours passed by easy, but soon boredom took hold. The redneck's mind wandered back to the conversation that he'd witnessed between Glenn and Andrea. It was ridiculous as hell. Like anyone would have the time to get dressed up before dying. Not to mention, it was useless. Just like the way the younger man had tried to get him involved in the conversation. They didn't really care, so why even ask?

It's not like he could have told them that if he had his choice, he'd choose to go out wearing a dress with sunflowers printed all over it and ballet flats. Something pretty, fancy compared to the ratty stuff he wore day to day. He could picture himself in something like that, making the skirt of the dress flounce as he ran, wind blowing up his naked legs. Women had it so good. They could dress like that and no one looked at them twice. They could dress in pants and no one questioned it. It didn't work the other way around and it drove him crazy. All he wanted was to wear stuff that made him feel good, but he couldn't. 

Daryl reclined in his chair, gnawing on his fingernails. If he could, he'd go out looking exactly the way he wanted to: cute as fuck. Shit, if he could get away with it he'd do it now. Maybe the next time it was his turn to go on a supply run he'd try to find something like that. He didn't plan on dying anytime soon, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. 

'That's a real fuckin' smart idea, genius.' The voice of self-doubt and self-defeat told him. He was used to hearing it by now. 'If Merle sees it you won't have to worry about walkers killin' you, he'll gladly do it for you.'

But that was just fear talking now. Daryl was pretty sure Merle wouldn't kill him over it. Maybe beat the shit out of him, accuse him of being certain things which Daryl honestly wasn't sure that he was or wasn't, and probably tell the entire camp that his brother was a big sissy. 

Then again, it might be better than the angry feeling he got whenever he saw fancy clothes that he figured he could never wear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: use of a racial slur against Glenn

The big box store was littered with debris and broken glass. Daryl had volunteered to come along, which he knew looked unusual. Even Merle had given him a strange look over it until Daryl promised to bring him back any opiates he could find. Barring that, Merle had said he'd gladly take any uppers or any antibiotics. He'd claimed his clap was flaring up and that it was hurting to piss again. His exact words had been: “Feels like I got fuckin' lava shootin' outta me.” Daryl wished his brother wouldn't be so goddamn descriptive.

Glenn was leading them, which Daryl found kinda funny. The kid didn't look like much of a leader at all, but he got the others in the party spread out and gathering what they needed. Daryl's job was to act as cover, going from person to person and making sure they were safe. That suited him, because it meant he could slip away. 

After making sure Andrea and Jacqui were fine in the food aisles, he casually moseyed over to the women's clothing. Most of the racks had been turned over. The dresses on display weren't that cute, plus they were mostly made of polyester or rayon. That was the worst choice considering the summer heat and humidity. 

Daryl knew he had to move fast, but he could help lingering. There was a rack of summer dresses that looked promising. He checked the tag of one that was made of white eyelet lace over a white slip. It had thin straps and it was fitted in the bodice and the skirt to hug the body. 100% cotton. White wasn't a practical color, but it would do. He grabbed two that looked that might fit and dropped his gear. Still looking around for walkers or other people, he slipped on the smaller size. It was a tad too tight around the waist. The second one was better. Apparently he was an XL in women's dresses. 

He tried to zip up the side, but the zipper stuck. The metal tab kept slipping between his fingers, and he let out a grunt of frustration. Daryl didn't expect to hear that grunt answered with a groan. Forgetting everything else except immediate survival, he grabbed his crossbow and tried to make out where the noise had come from. The stench that came to his nose from the left answered that. He aimed and the arrow found its mark. The walker's clothes were filthy and ragged. 

“Too bad you didn't think to change into better clothes before ya turned.” Daryl muttered. He was about to lower his crossbow when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Holy shit!” 

When he turned towards Glenn Daryl knew how a deer staring down his crossbow felt. The terror at being seen like this was greater than the fear of the walker he'd just killed. It didn't help that the younger man was just standing there, gaping at him. 

“You, uh, you really nailed that walker.” Glenn said, pointing to the corpse. Daryl scrambled for the zipper, trying to get rid of the dress he was wearing over his pants. It was stuck, and his hands were getting sweatier.

“Need help?” Glenn tentatively came forward. 

“No!” Daryl glared at him and the zipper tab slipped from between his fingers. 

“Dude, just lemme...” Glenn reached out and the redneck's fingers wrapped around his wrist. The younger man yelped. Daryl's palm was wet with sweat. “Hey, chill! I'm just trying to help.” 

“Don't need it.” Daryl saw the intimidation in Glenn's face and the fear in his eyes and he let his wrist go. 

“Daryl, you can stand here struggling like hell with that zipper until everyone comes over to see the commotion or you can let me help.” Glenn looked the redneck over. The dress didn't look out of place on him. “The dress is way cute on you by the way.”

Had anyone else told him that, Daryl would have probably punched them. But Glenn said it with honesty, and it triggered something in him. He relaxed and moved his arm out of the way. “Go 'head then.” 

Glenn took hold of the tab between folds of his t-shirt, and carefully pulled it down. He stepped back and turned around. Daryl slipped out of the dress and put his shirt back on. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled as he folded the dress and put it in the backpack he'd taken with him.

“Hey, no problem. Always glad to help.” Glenn coughed, trying to clear the awkwardness out of his throat. “We need to check with Morales, he'd in the auto department.” He'd barely finished the sentence when Daryl rushed past him, heading in that direction. Glenn looked down at the walker, and yanked the arrow out of its head. 

 

He caught up with the older man as he was walking towards the pharmacy. “Hey, I got your arrow.” 

Daryl's eyes looked ahead, trying to figure out where the prescription counter was. He snatched the arrow out of Glenn's hand. The younger man trotted alongside him.

“You don't have to worry, I won't tell anyone about-”

“You won't tell nobody nothin' 'cause you saw nothin'. Got it?” The redneck hissed at him. He turned around the corner, and spied the prescription counter. He sped up but Glenn kept up with him.

“I get it, but I'm telling you, like, it's not like I'm judging you or anything. It's cool.” 

Daryl hopped onto the counter and slid over it. To his dismay, Glenn did the same.

“The fuck you want chinaman? You got yer show, now fuck off.” A needle of regret pierced him but its pain was muted by his anger at the other man for seeing him in such a compromised position.

“I just wanted to-” Glenn's mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, words refusing to do their job and express what he needed to express. 

“Well, guess what. I don't give a shit 'bout anythin' you gotta say to me. Now leave me the fuck alone.” Daryl walked down the rows of meds. They were picked over, making it hard to find anything of value. He pushed some anti-histamines aside and looked back towards the front. Glenn was gone. Instead of relief that needling feeling returned, and this time is wasn't so muted by anger. Instead it was coupled with gloom and anxiety that the kid wasn't going to be able to keep that big yap of his shut.


	3. Chapter 3

After being caught trying on that damn dress, Daryl sat waiting for the word to spread. Every day he woke up knowing that it would be the day where he walked over to breakfast and would be greeted with mocking laughter and jokes at his expense. But it didn't happen. Day after day he woke up to go hunting, would come back and everyone acted as they always did. They thanked him for the meat, and went on with their business. Glenn had stayed true to his word.

The more days passed by, Daryl felt increasingly thankful towards the younger man. If it had been Merle, the word would have been spread by the end of the day that Daryl Dixon liked to wear dresses. When the redneck sat alone in the tent he shared with his brother he would peek into the bag where he had hidden his dress. He washed his hands before touching it, not wanting to dirty up the fabric. The eyelets were circled with embroidery to keep them together, and the stitches were soothing under his fingers. When he traced them with his fingertips, he felt calm. 

There were no opportunities to wear the damn thing though. Daryl didn't want to run the risk of Merle catching him. It had happened once, when he'd been a child. He'd dug out a dress from his mother's closet, this had been before she'd run off trying to escape their father. Alone in the bedroom of the trailer, he'd worn the black and floral printed dress, hiking it up because it had been too long to him to walk it. Daryl remembered that it had been one of the rare times where he'd felt comfortable. 

When he'd looked in the long, cardboard backed mirror in the room, he'd seen himself as something better than what he was. His hair had been long and shaggy then. His mother had refused to cut it, even though his father kept saying he looked like a sissy. In the mirror, he could have passed for a little girl playing dress-up with her mother's clothes. It had made sense, and the thought came to his head that maybe he was a girl, and that when he grew up he'd end up looking like his mother. 

Then Merle had caught him. Made him stay in the dress until their father came home. The beating he'd caught for it had been severe, bad enough that the bruising lasted for a month. After his father finished with him Merle had pulled out the hair clipper and buzzed off all of his hair. Then when Daryl looked in the mirror, he didn't see a girl anymore. He didn't see anything but something that was worthless. 

So he was stuck touching the dress, never putting it on. The frustration it caused made his back teeth grind together until he tasted chalk. But there was one option.

**

“You there kid?” 

Daryl's voice made Glenn look up from his book. He peeked out of the tent and saw the redneck standing there holding a plastic bag. 

“Hey. What's up?” Glenn came out of the tent. Daryl's presence was surprising, enough so for him to ignore him calling him that goddamn word that he hated so much. After the incident at the store, the redneck had been keeping his distance. Glenn didn't blame him. It had been an awkward situation. 

“Got you some stuff.” He handed him the bag. It held a bottle of shampoo, a package of socks, a package of t-shirts, and a box of granola bars. 

“Holy shit!” Glenn looked at Daryl with amazement. “Thanks! This is...thanks!” He tore open the box of granola bars and dug one out. The chocolate covering was a little melted, but it was still a welcome taste. “Oh my god, I freaking love these. Want one?” He held out a bar to Daryl. The redneck took it and tucked it into his pocket. 

“Thought you might have use for that stuff.” Daryl's voice didn't sound as terse as usual. The way his eyes flicked from Glenn to the trees told the younger man that maybe this usually solitary individual might have just needed an excuse to talk to him.

“So what's up? I've never been the object of such generosity before.” Glenn swallowed the last bits of chocolate and oats in his mouth, hoping nothing was stuck in his teeth.

“Owed it to ya. For keepin' quiet 'bout that one thing.” Daryl's eyes didn't stay in one place for long. 

“Oh. Oh, man, you don't owe me for that at all. I mean, your business is your business. And it's none of mine. You don't need to bribe me for it.” The handles of the plastic bag dug in slightly into Glenn's wrists. The skin underneath them was getting sweaty.

Daryl nods. “I 'preciate it.” 

“Trust me, I know how it is. People are weird and judgy.” His laugh was as cracked at the mirrors Daryl was used to looking into. “I mean, it's not like I don't have some stuff about myself I don't want being turned into camp gossip.” 

If he was trying to share something, the redneck didn't really care. All he cared about was asking what he needed to ask. “I need a favor.”

“Ask away.” Glenn swallowed. His mouth was starting to get dry and pasty from the granola bar and from Daryl's presence. 

“I need to use yer tent.”

Glenn furrowed his brow. “For what?” Daryl gave him a sideways, desperate look and didn't elaborate. He didn't need to, because the younger man got it. “Ok, um, I guess you can.” He wasn't sure why he was agreeing to it, considering that the redneck was a little too fond of insulting him. But Glenn was sympathetic to him. He could see in him the struggle from just asking for a space that was safe. 

“Don't worry, I'll ask 'fore comin' over.” Daryl muttered. Now his eyes were staring at the ground. 

“That's fine.” Glenn bit the inside of his cheek. “Don't worry, we'll keep it secret from Merle.” The redneck winced at his own transparency, and from the humiliation of having to form this alliance with the kid. But if he ever wanted the chance to wear that damn dress, he was going to have to deal with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: racial slur.

The tent was shadowy and stuffy, but that didn't matter. The dress felt tighter when Daryl sat down, but that didn't matter either. The cotton make soft cracking sounds when the redneck moved, and the tightness was as comforting as that sound. The boots on his feet didn't go with the garment. They were dirty and beat up, clashing with the pristine newness of the dress. Daryl carefully removed them, not wanting to scatter too much dirt around Glenn's tent. 

The kid was on watch duty for the next couple of hours, and Daryl had lied to Merle, telling him that he was going to go off hunting. Instead he took his bag and crossbow to Glenn's tent and got changed. Sitting on the floor of the tent, he thought of how he might thank Glenn for the favor. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the knee. Next time he bagged a deer he'd make sure that the kid would get a good cut from it. 

Daryl looked down at his legs. The hair there was a little lighter than the hair on his head. It always had been. When he'd been a child, his hair had been a bright strawberry blonde, but had darkened as he'd grown up. He ran his hands over the hair, ruffling it and making it stand. It looked a little weird, but it didn't clash with the dress the way his boots had. 

“Hey? It's Glenn.” The redneck jumped at the sound of the younger man's voice, and stuck his head out of the tent. He was standing there with a plastic bag just like Daryl had the other day.

“I thought you were on watch.” 

“I am, but I needed to give you something.” He tossed the bag at the entrance of the tent. “Don't worry, I didn't spill the beans. I jacked the stuff myself yesterday when we went on a supply run.” 

Daryl reached out. The glimpse of his upper body fitting so snugly in the dress made Glenn's tongue press to the roof of his mouth and swallow, trying to combat the nervous dryness that Daryl induced. He looked good. Real good. 

The bag had a pair of black flats in it. “I figured you might need shoes to go with the dress. These ones looked cute.”

Daryl emerged from the tent and grabbed the front of Glenn's shirt. “The fuck's the big idea? You tryin' t'make fun of me?” 

The younger man held up his hands in surrender. “No! I saw them and thought they'd match your dress.” There was a cracking of branches in the woods, and Daryl started. He dragged Glenn into the tent along with the bag. 

“I swear to God if yer makin' fun of me chinaman-”

“I'm not. And stop calling me that! I was trying to do something nice for you because you brought me socks you dumbass.” He straightened his shirt. The fabric was stretched where the redneck had grabbed him. 

Despite his distrust, Daryl took the shoes out of the bag and tried them on. They fit, and Glenn was right, they were cute. “Thanks.”

“I'm glad you like them.” Reached over to his backpack and pulled out a novel. “If you get bored you can read some. I gotta get back to watch.” Glenn got up to leave. Daryl gazed down at the shiny black surface of the shoes. The toes came to a slight point, making his feet look more delicate. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving his feet so the light would pass over the reflective surface.

“What's that?” Glenn looked back at him. Sitting there, Daryl looked almost delicate. 

“I'll watch my mouth in the future. Since yer lettin' me use yer tent.” The redneck's eyes were still looking at the slick black of the shoes. Despite his hesitation, there was something about Daryl in that moment that made Glenn feel intense tenderness. The way he had one hand on the ground propping himself up made him look younger than he was, like a kid sitting on a playground. The older man licked his bottom lip with a quick motion of his tongue before biting down on his bottom lip and holding it between his teeth. When he released it it was flushed and pinker than before. 

“Good.” Glenn left the redneck to his time alone. He was still flushed when he got to the RV, making Dale look at him a bit funny when he clambered up it. 

“You ok?” 

“Yeah, just had to get something.” Glenn looked over the lay of the quarry, but all he wanted to see was Daryl in his white dress. Despite the older man's anger, he'd looked more relaxed, and even happy. The thought of Daryl happy made Glenn feel a coiling feeling in his gut, like excitement but more intense. 

**

The shoes joined the dress in Daryl's bag, placed carefully side by side under the garment. Their edges had rubbed Daryl's skin a little raw. His feet were used to boots, not delicate things like that. They wouldn't be practical to walk around in, but they'd looked so pretty on his feet. As he'd put on his other clothes, Daryl was surprised that he didn't feel upset about having to give up the dress. He knew that he could come back there anytime to wear it. 

He looked at the items in his bag. The plastic bag that had held the shoes was still on the ground. He took the shoes and dress out of the bag and slipped them both into the plastic bag. Folding the handles underneath it, he left it under Glenn's cot. It was safer if they stayed there. 

Merle was sitting outside the tent picking at his fingernails with his hunting knife when Daryl got back. 

“Didn't bag nothin' today?” His brother didn't bother looking up when he asked him the question. 

“Naw.” Daryl sat down next to him, happy that Merle was so absorbed by his task. He had no doubt that his happiness was written all over his face. It certainly felt like it. “Pass me that willya, got a busted nail.”

Merle flipped the knife over, offering the handle to his brother. Carefully shaving off the peeling part of the nail on his pinky, Daryl wondered just how far Glenn's patience with him would extend. He'd gotten him the shoes without Daryl even mentioning them. The knife slipped and nicked the tip of his finger. 

“Shit.” He sucked the blood from it.

“Careful butterfingers.” Merle snatched the knife back and went back to running the tip of it under his fingernails. Daryl sat worrying his injured finger and thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, he'd been given a thoughtful gift. 

The more he thought of it, was the first time ever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: misogyny, racism.

Daryl figured he was pushing his luck at this point with Glenn. Even though he only went to his tent every few days, it was a calculated risk. He couldn't afford to make Merle curious about his comings and goings, but the time he spent alone in Glenn's tent made reminded him that he was a person, not some worthless thing. The redneck also knew that Glenn's generosity could only extend so far. 

Sitting in the tent, Daryl looked through his bag. After the shoes, every time that the younger man went on a supply run he'd come back with something for Daryl. The older man had started to make some requests. The mascara was especially risky, because even the makeup remover couldn't melt every tiny trace of it. Black smudges remained even after him scrubbing his eyelids into a red, inflamed state. 

That's what he was going to have to do now before leaving. Holding up the small hand mirror, he took one last look at himself before he had to take off the mascara and put his regular clothes. That's how he thought of them. Regular clothes versus fancy clothes, which were the dress and the shoes and the thin silver chain that hung around his neck. There had been a fake diamond pendant that had gone with it, but he'd thrown it out into the woods. It didn't look right on him. He'd always preferred jewelery that looked like it had been dug from the surface of the earth, stuff that looked like they'd been procured out of split open rocks from outer space. 

At the pawn shop that he and his brother had frequented before money became meaningless, there had been necklaces like that on display under glass cases. The guy at the counter had told them that they were opals and that if Daryl wanted to buy one of the necklaces for his girlfriend he'd make him a good deal. Daryl had nodded, and moved on, concealing the fact that he'd been daydreaming of how pretty the necklace would look around his own neck. He still thought about how the white stone had shone with multicolored flecks when the light hit it. How soul crushing it was knowing that he couldn't have access to that kind of pretty, and how every time he was reminded he felt further from wanting to do anything more than just go from one day to another.

To forget that, Daryl focused on his eyelashes. Coated in mascara they looked long and dark, and made his eyes look larger and more interesting. He fluttered his eyelashes, and he had to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. He'd seen in cartoons when he was a kid. It was goofy then and it was goofy now. He tried tilting his head down, slowly blinking and looking up through the coated lashes. That wasn't so ridiculous. In fact it felt kind of sexy. 

He imagined Glenn coming back to the tent, and imagined giving him that sexy look. Poor kid's cheeks would probably turn red. Or laugh. Daryl didn't like that, so he soaked a cotton round with makeup remover and rubbed it across his eyes. It only served to make him look like a raccoon.

It took him three cotton rounds before the black was gone from his eyelashes. Now his eyes looked squinty and boring. Once he was back in his regular clothes, he left behind all the fancy things that made him feel light inside. On his way to the main part of camp, he crossed Glenn. 

“Hey.” The younger man waved at him genially. “We're going on another run tomorrow. Do you need anything?” It was an innocent question. Anyone who could have overheard it wouldn't have thought it odd. But that was how they talked to each other now, between lines and in subtext. 

“Might need something for my lips.” Daryl said quietly after checking that no one could overhear them. 

“Color matter?” Glenn asked, but it was too loud and the older man glared at him. Daryl leaned in closer.

“Somethin' red. And keep yer goddamn voice down.” He shoved the younger man aside with his shoulder. It was for show, Glenn knew that, but Daryl hated having to do it. But just like the dress, if people knew they were on friendly terms the consequences could be terrible. 

Merle was standing waiting for his share of dinner. His eyes turned down to Daryl's throat and a mocking smile spread on his lips. The redneck looked down and realized he'd forgotten to take off the silver chain. 

“Where'd ya get that?” Merle reached out and tugged at it.

“Supply run.” 

“That there's a woman's necklace little brother. Shit, you really don't know yer ass from yer elbow. It makes ya look like a bitch.” Merle shook his head, chuckling. 

Daryl scoffed, concealing the primal fear response his brother's observation had brought forth. He tucked the chain under his shirt “Yer one to talk Merle. Does it still hurt to take a piss?”

Merle laughed and clapped his brother on the back. To him, this was just how they interacted, trading barbs and insults. Daryl was just thankful that it didn't go any further. 

“I'm gonna be goin' on a supply run tomorrow with the chinaman and his little girlfriend.” Merle was referring to Andrea. Her and Glenn were close and could often be found laughing together. Daryl envied that. It frustrated him to see them be so at ease with each other. He couldn't manage that. Probably never would. “Should be fun. What a coupla yo-yos. I'm gonna have to be watchin' them the whole time, makin' sure they don't get into no trouble. Not that I mind with the blondie.” He caught sight of Andrea in the distance, and a leering smile came over his face. “Now that's a fine piece of ass.”

“Jesus Christ Merle.” Daryl grabbed a plate and took a portion of stew. He'd bagged a deer the day before and they were still eating from it. After he'd butchered it he'd taken a large portion of the loin to Glenn and cooked it for him. They'd eaten it together, with Daryl sitting silent as Glenn tried to get him to have a conversation. He'd tried, but talking sometimes felt too difficult. Thankfully Glenn had taken the hint and eaten the rest of his meat in silence. He'd smiled so bright when he'd thanked Daryl that it stuck in the redneck's mind. Even now, as he tuned his brother's incessant chatter out while they ate, he could see it. It made him think of those opals and how the light showed that they were so much more than what they were when you looked at them straight ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: homophobia, racism, misogyny.

“Whatcha got there boy?”

Glenn looked up from the rack of Revlon lipsticks and wondered if there was any way in hell he could manage to run away from the older man. Not likely.

“Is that there for you?” He pointed to the lipstick in Glenn's hand. “Shit, I done knew you were some kinda queer.” Merle's laughter was nasty. Mocking. 

“It's for Amy. She asked me to get her some.” Glenn tucked the tube of Cherries In The Snow in his pocket. 

“Sure she did.” Merle shook his head. “Whoo boy, we're gonna have to watch out fer you chinaman.” 

Thankfully Merle was more amused than enraged at the moment, so Glenn let him go on talking shit about his being, in his words, “a pansy candy ass” as well as a queer. Part of him was tempted to stand up and say “Yes I sure am. Biggest queer you'll ever meet, and that's Mr. Pansy Candy Ass to you.” But self-preservation trumped his urge to push back against another in a long line of loudmouthed dickheads. Andrea was waiting for them at the entrance. At least the run was almost over.

“Hey blondie, didya know this boy here's a certified sissy? He likes him some lipstick. I must say, you done got them dick suckin' lips so it would look good on ya.” Merle laughed louder, not caring if anything heard him. He was used to not caring like that. Andrea just glared. 

“I told you man it's for Amy.” Glenn muttered, hoping that Andrea would go along with the lie. The blonde caught on quick.

“Yeah Merle, it's for my sister. She asked him to grab her some.” She grabbed a handful of chocolate bars from the displays by the dead registers.

“Why in the hell would yer sister need lipstick?” Merle's voice sounded like a chalkboard and it made Glenn hate him even more.

“You wouldn't understand. It's a woman thing.” Andrea shouldered her bag. “Then again, I doubt you have the capacity to understand most things.”

Merle sometimes didn't catch on quickly to the insults that Andrea delivered, but his gut told him when he'd been insulted. “What I don't understand is why you gotta be such a fuckin' bitch. Shit, if it weren't for that mouth of yers I wouldn't mind givin' you a good time.” He let his eyes trail over her body, leaving Andrea feeling greasy and tasting something sour in the back of her throat.

“Guys, lets head back. Now. Before any geeks decide to stroll on over?” Glenn didn't wait for a response from either of them, heading out the door and breaking into a brisk jog.

Like on the way to the pharmacy, Merle was too busy huffing and puffing to continue with his verbal harassment. Years of smoking cigarettes and other substances had compromised his lungs, and he was left struggling for air as they hiked to the quarry. Merle was so busy trying to catch his breath he didn't have it in him to keep needling Glenn. He didn't really think the lipstick was going to be for the younger man at first, but the hint of fear in Glenn's eyes when he'd called him a queer was all the proof he needed. Merle knew how to recognize fear, and he could tell the difference between fear of his presence and the fear of being found out. 

Andrea patted Glenn on the shoulder. “Hey Glenn, gimme that lipstick. I'll go give it to Amy.”

The younger man handed it over. The whole thing had turned into a big-ass production, but at least Merle had lost interest. He was too busy coughing and looking for a refill for his canteen. 

“I'll get it back to you later.” Andrea whispered. Glenn nodded, and hoped that she wouldn't ask why in the world he needed a tube of fuchsia-red lipstick.

**

“Daryl, guess what.” Merle chugged more water from his canteen. He wished he'd had the presence of mind to find some booze, or at least some cough syrup with codeine in it. It sure would be refreshing right about now. 

Daryl didn't bother looking up from the rabbit he was skinning. “What?”

“That Chinese kid? He's a goddamn fairy. Caught him pickin' out a pretty new lipstick for himself.” Merle let his wrist go limp, flopping his hand down in a mincing fashion. Daryl's hands stopped obeying him.

“What?” Daryl wondered if his voice sounded as shaky as it felt in the back of his throat. Merle didn't seem to notice or care.

“Him and the blondie tried to cover it by sayin' it was for what's her name...”Merle snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory. “Amy! But lemme tell ya, them two can lie worth shit. Can you believe it though? A real life faggot in our midst.” Merle sat down on one of the logs that served as seating. “I got half a mind to have me some fun with that boy.”

“Don't mess with him Merle.” The force with which Daryl said it surprised the both of them. “If you hassle that kid Shane might kick us outta here.”

“Shoot, I'd like to see him try.” But Merle knew that the former deputy was not one to be fucked with. Despite that, he couldn't help thinking of the sorts of fun that he could have if he caught Glenn alone.

“I'm serious. We got a good thing goin', don't fuck it up.” Daryl pointed his knife at his brother to emphasize his point. Blood dripped from it onto the dusty earth. 

“The fuck's gotten into you?” Merle grumbled. “No need to get all outta sorts over some pansy bitch.”

Daryl gripped the handle of the knife harder. With his brother sitting like that with his legs sprawled out in front of him, it would be easy to sink the blade into his thigh. That would shut him up and keep him from talking about Glenn like that.

“Just leave him alone. Don't go rockin' the goddamn boat.” He told his brother, going back to skinning the rabbit. He peeled back the fur, being careful to not let it touch the meat. It felt soft and lovely, even as he forced it free from the flesh of the dead animal. Underneath it there was a whitish membrane, and under that dark pink flesh. It would make for good eating.

It was one thing Daryl could control. Move his hands, butcher the meat. One small thing he could hang onto as things spun around him.


	7. Chapter 7

As night fell, Andrea pulled Glenn aside. She pulled the tube of lipstick from her pocket and handed it to the younger man.

“You gonna tell me about that?” She asked with a small quirking smile. 

“It's...”Lying wasn't Glenn's strong suit, but to tell Andrea the truth would mean something worse. Betraying Daryl like that would be the same as pushing him down to the ground and kicking him. “It's because of Daryl.” 

Goddamn it.

“Daryl?” Andrea's eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, he's into me wearing that kind of thing.” The save was barely a save, but it was all he could think up on the spot. Better let his friend think that he was in some kind of sexual relationship with him rather than reveal his business. So what if it only existed in the lie? Glenn knew he could come up with details if pressed. He'd thought of them enough. 

“Are you? He isn't forcing you to do anything is he?” She looked so concerned it made Glenn want to laugh hysterically.

“No, of course not. I mean, I've done it before. And I look damn good with a red lip.” He put his shoulders back slightly and the blonde giggled. 

“Wow, that's something else. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Hey, I'm not exactly straight either, so I get it.” Andrea winked and Glenn smiled back. 

“Yeah, just keep it on the down-low. Please.”

“Got it.” She tapped the tip of her nose. Glenn thought it might be a reference to something, but he didn't get it. Either way it didn't matter. He had to get it to Daryl. The older man had accosted him after dinner and given him that look. At this point he didn't ask with words. Glenn had nodded and he knew that Daryl would be at the tent. Despite the distress and his fear that he'd royally fucked up with his slip in front of Andrea, the anticipation of seeing Daryl was making him feel excited.

'He's going to be at my tent, and he'd going to be so pretty.' That was all he could care about. When he'd first met the redneck he'd thought he was pretty attractive. But when he got all gussied up, there was a kind of glowing beauty that came over him. Glenn guessed that being yourself did that to a person. 

Daryl was indeed in the tent, sitting there applying mascara, hoping that Glenn was going to show up soon. After hearing his brother go on in such a horrible way, he needed something to comfort him. This was the only thing that could do that. 

“Can I come in?” Glenn asked from outside the tent. The older man reached out and pulled the tent flap back. He put the brush back into the tube of sticky black stuff. It made a squishing sound, and it was satisfying to hear. 

“Thanks. I got you this.” Daryl had the electric lantern on, his features softened in it's light. Glenn gave him the lipstick and he uncapped it. 

“It's nice.” The redneck said quietly. At this point he felt alright letting Glenn see him like this. The way he looked at him was unlike how Daryl had ever been looked at. The kid didn't make fun of him either. That was enough to make Daryl feel like he could trust him. 

He looked into the mirror and dragged the lipstick across his thin lips. The color looked bright in contrast with the rest of his face. Daryl pressed his lips together and rubbed them together. The color made him think about flowers.

“Jesus...that color looks pretty on you.” Glenn breathed out, and Daryl's lungs forgot how to function. “A friend of mine in high school swore by that color. She said it was her power color. Figured it might look good on you, you have the same coloring she did.” 

He was rambling, and Daryl was still looking at himself in the mirror. Pretty. He was pretty. Maybe even a little beautiful. If he had the tools to make himself beautiful then he looked forward to the next day, because he knew he could make himself beautiful over and over again. It was something he could attain. It wasn't an opal under a glass case at a pawn shop. It was something he could touch because it was him. 

“Are you ok?” Glenn asked, and Daryl looked away from him. He blinked rapidly, trying to make the wetness in his eyes subside. It shouldn't matter now, the kid had seen him more vulnerable than he'd let anyone see him before. But it was too much.

“Yeah. Thanks.” It took him a few seconds, but he looked back at the younger man. He saw desire in his eyes, and that just confused the hell out of him. Anyone wanting him was confusing, but wanting him even when he was wearing all of this was baffling. But it made Daryl feel good. He looked down at his legs, a small smile playing on his lips. He could be pretty and he could be wanted. Glenn swallowed and started babbling again. Daryl found it a little annoying, but he understood it was how he dealt with being nervous.

“Your brother saw me get that damn thing. Not that I'm trying to say it was a hassle, it's not. It was just a little stressful this time. I'm gonna have to hold off on getting you stuff when he's around, it's too dangerous.” Daryl nodded and Glenn kept going. “I had to lie and say it was for Amy, and then I had to lie to Andrea and tell her it was for me. She thinks we're a thing now, I'm sorry. I kinda fucked up, but I didn't say anything about this.” He waved to Daryl's outfit. The white fabric of the dress was looking stained around the armpits. “I'd never say anything about that, I swear-” 

“You said we were a thing?” Daryl furrowed his brow. 

“I'm sorry, I was trying to cover for myself. And you. It's bad right?” Glenn looked so panicked that the redneck felt bad. 

“It ain't. You better hope it don't get back to Merle.” He sighed and looked down at the tube of lipstick. It was bad enough as it was, and now it was probably going to get worse. Nothing to be done about it though. 

“I won't, she promised. She's not straight either so she knows what it's like.” Glenn folded his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, pressing his knees to his chest. 

“What d'you mean either? You don't know that 'bout me.” Daryl couldn't help the defensiveness even though what Glenn had accidentally implied was kind of true.

“I was talking about myself dumbass. If you hear your brother going on about how I'm a queer, just know that he's right.” Glenn took his baseball cap off and tossed it aside. “Just my luck too. Your brother's probably gonna jump me, isn't he?”

“He was talkin' bout it.” Daryl said hesitantly, making the younger man groan with anxious displeasure. “I won't let him though. Told him to leave you alone. And if he tries anything, tell me and I'll stomp his ass.” 

For some reason, the red lipstick and dress made Daryl's claim all the more serious.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl laughed now. It was a soft shake of the shoulders, a quick exhalation and smile, and a look away, but it was a laugh. Glenn liked it. 

Daryl let him sit with him in the tent. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sat in silence. But the silence was comfortable between them. In this silence, the redneck wasn't closed off. 

In front of the others very little changed. They didn't speak to each other, didn't go out of their way to be around each other. But their looks had meaning now, and even when they spoke to each other ease radiated from them. Andrea was the only one paying close enough attention, and it made her happy to see. She wasn't sure about Daryl, but Glenn was happy. That eased her mind. 

Merle noticed, but he was too distracted with disdain for Glenn to notice that his little brother was getting close to him. He still didn't understand why Daryl shut him down when he tried to talk shit about the kid. 

“Why the hell do you care?” 

His brother had just glared at him and said:

“Just shut the fuck up Merle.”

The redneck got bolder. He spent more time with Glenn at his tent that he needed to, letting him watch him as he stroked on mascara to his lashes, and painted his lips bright as cardinals. Glenn looked at him with such wonder it felt just as good as the dress and the makeup.

Daryl had wished for men to look at him like that in the past, just as much as he'd wished for women to look at him. The fact that Glenn looked at him like that even when he was dressed all fancy-like was even better. It was sweet, so sweet. It made him want to reach out and put his hand on Glenn's. Even the heat of the tent wouldn't stop him, even as sweat collected in the hair on his upper lip and slid onto the bright red on his mouth. But fear did what the heat couldn't.

“You know, I gotta go on a supply run tomorrow.” Glenn mentioned as Daryl applied the lipstick again. The act brought the redneck so much joy he couldn't stop himself from doing it over and over again, even as his lips got slick from it. 

“Yeah?” Daryl rubbed his lips together. They felt smooth because of the lipstick.

“I was thinking...maybe I could pick you up a new dress. That one's nice, but you need more than just one.” Glenn said it with a laugh in his voice. “I mean, someone as pretty as you deserves a nice wardrobe.”

The redneck's breath hitched and he felt his heartbeat inside his throat. “You-” he stopped himself from asking if Glenn really thought he was pretty. He didn't want to sound that silly. “That's real kind of ya.” He looked up at the younger man and gave him a smile. Glenn reached out and stroked the edge of his lip with his thumb. For such a small gesture, it made the air in the tent crackle.

“You had a smudge.” Glenn said softly, drawing his hand back. “Sorry, I should've asked first. I get kinda handsy sometimes and I forget that some people don't want to be touched.”

“S'alright.” The redneck let out a nervous sigh. Glenn's hand was so gentle that it made him want to be touched by him again. He had no words in which to express that desire though, and the lack of words filled the tent.

“That lipstick really does look good on you.” The younger man didn't know what else to say. Being in the presence of someone beautiful did that to him.

“Thanks.” Daryl shifted. Sweat was collecting behind his knees, and he wiped them off. “Why...” he forced the words to do what he needed them to do. “Why d'you keep being so nice to me?”

“I dunno. It's just my way I guess. Plus, I figured you needed this. I know what it's like to not be able to, you know, express yourself.” He gesticulated with his hands, motioning out and back towards himself. 

Daryl rubbed his lips together. They slid against each other, and it felt better than biting them. “You don't gotta compliment me though. Yer gonna give me a big head.” 

“Well, it's all true though.” Glenn could feel his forehead grow sweatier and his mouth get more nervous. “You're, like, mega pretty. Or handsome. Whatever one you want, you're it. What kind of dress would you like?” 

“I dunno.” Daryl shrugged, looking down at his knees. 'He thinks I'm pretty.' That bit of information was making his heart go fast and his breathing go shallow. “Something not white. This gets dirty too easy. It's gotta be cotton. It breathes.” Exactly what he had to remind himself to do normally.

“Ok. I'll do my best. I promise I'll find you something.” 

The honesty in the kid's voice made Daryl panic. He was too sweet for his own good, and it worried him. 

“I gotta get back.” He murmured. It would be so much easier if he could stay with Glenn, but he couldn't. 

“Oh. Well, I better let you get changed then.” Glenn started to get up, but he hesitated. It was so hard to turn away from Daryl. He could just look at him for hours and feel content. “Meet me in the woods tomorrow when I get back?” 

“Yeah.” Once the younger man left him Daryl cleaned his face and undressed. The dress was starting to look shabby from being worn and not washed. Washing it though was a risk, just like everything else in his life. Even Glenn's affectionate words were risky. For all he knew, it could all just be some great big joke. 

Now every time Daryl left Glenn's tent his head would be filled with thoughts of lazing around with the younger man, letting him pet his hair and listening to him say those sweet words that the redneck only half-believed. 

Now every time Daryl would come back to his tent, Merle noticed the way his mouth looked stained and his eyes looked like they'd been rubbed raw. He'd begun to notice a lot of things, and he didn't like it.


	9. Chapter 9

The place they'd targeted for supplies was a sports supply store where they hoped there would be weapons. There was a thrift shop next door to it. Glenn broke away from the rest of the group with the pretext that he needed a new shirt, and a brick through the glass door did the rest. The racks were still thick with clothes, but he worked fast. He wanted to find something pretty, but practical. Sweet, but fitting the redneck's personality. The white dress was nice, but Daryl would look better in darker colors. 

He managed to find a dress with small daisies printed on a dark blue background. The fabric wasn't 100% cotton, but it was lightweight enough. It was loose too, which was better for the heat. Scanning the shoe racks, he managed to find a pair of black Dr. Martens boots in Daryl's size. They were unisex, and arguably practical. More importantly, he could get away with wearing them in front of Merle.

“Glenn, we gotta go.” Andrea called out to him. He stuffed the dress in his bag. 

“Just gimme a sec.” He wanted something extra, something to show Daryl he meant it when he said nice things to him. There was a glass counter by the cash register, and he looked over the jewelery it held. There was a necklace with a dark quartz pendant that looked perfect. There was a jewelery tree on the counter, and that worked to break the glass. 

He picked out the necklace from the sharp shards, and slipped it in his pocket. He was getting good at this looting thing. 

“First lipstick, now this.” Andrea grinned. “Your sex life must be great.” She nudged him and he shrugged with a smile.

“Yeah.” He wished. 

**

Daryl was waiting in the woods for Glenn. He was finishing setting up new snares, so his cover was real for once. Merle had given him a look before he'd left, setting him on edge to the point where he'd said something.

“The fuck's yer problem Merle, why the fuck are ya givin' me them cross-eyed looks.” 

His brother had just glared at him and shook his head. “No reason.” 

“Maybe you should start pullin' yer goddamn weight 'round here more, then you wouldn't be so goddamn pissy. Fuck! Why don't you go and set up snares?” Daryl motioned towards the woods. He didn't really want Merle to take that over, but he needed to make like this was a chore to him, not the one thing that kept him alive. 

“I don't feel like it. Besides, yer the one who likes bein' out in the woods. Alone.” Merle managed to make the word 'alone' into an accusation. 

“Yeah I do. Better than hangin' 'round you.” He kicked at Merle's leg with a laugh, trying to play it off as funny. His brother chuckled a little. That was better. It sounded like how they usually interacted, and that was good. Nothing was different, nothing was changing. 

In the coolness of the woods, Daryl was sweating profusely. 

'Merle knows somethin's up, he's gonna do somethin', he's gonna hurt Glenn.' 

Those thoughts made his hands harder to control as he made loops out of wire to set up for snares. It made him so jumpy that when he heard footsteps behind him he immediately grabbed his crossbow and his finger was on the trigger ready to shoot. 

“AH!” Glenn wasn't expecting the redneck to have his crossbow pointed at him and it scared the shit out of him. “It's just me!”

“Shit.” Daryl lowered his weapon. “I'm sorry.”

“It's cool, I'm just not real big on being shot with arrows. Or bullets. Call me crazy, but it's not something I like. You ok?”

“I'm fine. Just jumpy is all. Are you?” The redneck stuck his hand in his pocket and fiddled with the wire. His fingers needed to do something. 

“I'm fine.” Glenn took his backpack off of his shoulders and wiggled it at Daryl. “Got you some really neat stuff.” 

The way Glenn said it gave the older man Christmas and birthday feelings. What he imagined those things should feel like anyway. “Lemme see.” 

Glenn dug out the dress and the boots. The way it made Daryl's face light up was the best reward he could've asked for. The redneck held the short dress up against himself, checking the fit.

“I hope it fits ok. I thought the style would suit you. And the boots looked right too.” 

“Thanks. Keep it in yer tent. Thanks for the boots.” The joy of being given gifts made him so giddy that he actually grabbed Glenn's hand as he handed back the dress. He squeezed it, and Glenn squeezed back. Daryl promised himself that once they were hanging out in the tent he'd take the initiative and hug him or something. Right now he couldn't. Not when they were out in the open. 

If Merle noticed the new boots on his brother's feet, he didn't say anything about them.

**

“I'm glad that thing fits.” 

Daryl looked up at the younger man and gave him a smile. The shocked look on Glenn's face from it made him crack up.

“Fits fine. It's real comfy.” He ruffled the skirt of the dress and watched the fabric ripple before returning to applying his lipstick. Putting the tube aside he ran his hand over his goatee. Maybe it would look nicer if he shaved it off. Though that seemed indulgent. Not that what he was doing now wasn't a little. But it was a necessary indulgence, and in it there was survival.

“I forgot to give you this earlier.” Glenn held out the necklace and dropped in Daryl's hand. “I remember you mentioning that you liked those kinds of semi-precious stones.”

The redneck had mentioned it briefly, once, after Glenn asked him why he'd tossed out the rhinestone pendant from the silver chain he wore under his shirt now. “You remembered that?”

“Well...yeah.” Glenn sat down in front of Daryl. “Do you like it? If you don't it's cool, I just thought it would go nice with the dress.” The redneck undid the clasp and put the necklace on. The quartz pendant rested on his chest, and he stroked it. 

“I do.” Daryl wasn't sure, but he suspected that this was what feeling special was. His thumb ran over the planes of the cut crystal. It was smooth and warmed up under his touch.

“Good, I'm glad you like it. And don't worry, nobody saw me take it. Well, Andrea did, but she knows not to say anything. She's nice that way. So you don't have to worry about it getting back to Merle.”

“Yer ramblin' kid.” The redneck inched forwards. Hugging Glenn wouldn't be enough. What he'd done for him was worth more than a hug, and there was no reason for him to be afraid of doing what he wanted to do in that moment.

“I'm sorry. My mouth goes kinda fast sometimes-”

Daryl's lips pressed against his and that stopped him. The redneck's lips felt slick from the lipstick, and his goatee tickled a little. He exhaled through his nose, and the breath of air it expelled was hot against Glenn's cupid's bow. 

When he pulled away the younger man had lipstick smudged over his lips and he looked so stunned that it made Daryl panic. Then Glenn reached out slowly and stroked the side of his face. The older man lowered his eyes and looked up at him through his painted eyelashes. Glenn turned bright red, and it was so silly that Daryl had to laugh. 

“I got lipstick on ya.” He said before descending into laughter again. 

“Gimme the mirror.” Glenn looked at himself and had to laugh as well. “I think the color looks better on you.”

“Need to put more on you to tell.” Daryl went in and gave him another kiss. It was a quicker one that time, and Glenn kissed him back. His lips caressed his like strands of cotton candy. It made Daryl want to kiss him as much as possible as often as possible. He found that he needed that sweetness as much as his fancy clothes.

Daryl pulled back and carefully wiped the smudges of red that were outside of Glenn's lips. The color on them made them look fuller. The older man wished he could have lips like that. Soft and delicious looking, not thin and boring like the ones he had. He uncapped the lipstick and brought it to Glenn's lips. The bullet glided buttery-smooth across his lips, having gotten soft from the heat. Glenn let him do it without a word. It was too tender to stop, and too intimate to refuse. He looked back at himself in the mirror. Not bad. He did look good with a red lip after all. Daryl went in for a kiss, and their lips stuck together slightly from the paint on them. 

“Does this mean we're a thing now?” Glenn asked before pressing his mouth against the redneck's again.

“I guess...if ya want.” Daryl said nervously. All he wanted was to keep kissing the younger man and hear him telling him he was pretty. He pressed his lips softly against Glenn's. 

That was good enough for the younger man, so he leaned in and gave Daryl what he wanted. Careful at first, but the kissing was so good that neither of them could help how hungry they got for it. It was only interrupted by Glenn sighing out the words Daryl needed to hear. 

“You're the prettiest thing in the whole world.” Daryl sighed and his hands gripped onto Glenn's shoulders. The noises Daryl let out were quiet, but they made Glenn's ears ring. 

By the time they had to pull away, they looked a fright with red smeared across their mouths and chins. Thankfully Glenn had thought to pick up makeup removing wipes. They turned several red before being totally clean. Daryl was smiling so big that the younger man couldn't help going in for another kiss. The redneck stroked his cheek.

“I gotta get changed.” He placed a quick kiss on Glenn's cheek. 

Glenn stepped out to let Daryl get changed, and took deep breaths of the marginally cooler night air. The sensation of the redneck's goatee against his chin as they'd kissed was lingering. It made him feel like happy drunk stumbling from bar to bar, too intoxicated to care about anything. So intoxicated that the noise of someone approaching was lost on him as he looked up at the stars and thought about how good Daryl was at kissing. 

“Hey chinaman.” The blackboard scratchy voice struck down that thought and replaced it with fear. “You seen my brother?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: racist slur, homophobia/transmisogyny, violence

Daryl had his dress halfway off when he heard his brother. The shock of his voice made him drop the hem of the garment and hold still. The last time his brother had caught him like this the end result had been pain. Daryl liked to think he wasn't afraid of pain, but he still couldn't move. 

Outside, Glenn did the best he could to keep calm. “Nope. Haven't seen him all evening.” 

“Really now?” Merle's voice was even enough, but his words sounded poisonous to Glenn. “I been lookin' for him all over camp and no one's seen him. You sure you ain't seen him?” The older man's gaze was unforgiving, and Glenn had to look away. 

“C'mon, why the hell would your brother hang around me?” 

Merle smiled and Glenn's guts churned “I wonder. I certainly wouldn't want to be around yer pansy-ass unless I needed to.” He wasn't leaving, and Glenn didn't like his smile. “You know, I been around queers like you in prison. If they had any sense in 'em they made sure to keep people like me happy, you dig? Whaddya say boy? You got any sense in ya?” 

The older man's voice was oozing and tar-like. Glenn clenched his fists, and was trying to mount up the courage to say something back when Daryl emerged from the tent.

“Leave him the fuck alone Merle!” His voice was loud and unflinching. A breeze blew, making the skirt of his dress flutter. Daryl didn't care about what his brother would have to say or do if he saw him as he was. The redneck was used to pain. Glenn wasn't, and he'd be damned if the younger man would learn to get used to it. 

Merle let out a whoop of laughter. “Oh well ain't this rich!” He could only manage those words as he was seized with laughter. It only served to focus Daryl's anger. His brother quieted down after a moment, shaking his head. “I shoulda known. I always suspected you were a big sissy Daryl. I figured you'd done grown out of it, but look atcha. Ain't you purdy.” 

“Fuck you Merle.” Daryl stepped in front of Glenn. “Get the fuck outta here and leave the kid alone.”

“Or what, yer gonna slap me?” Merle made his voice go high-pitched and jeering. “You gonna hit me with yer purse?” 

Daryl's fist in his face answered that. Merle's reaction was automatic. He aimed a punch at his younger brother's stomach, making him double over.

“You better calm the fuck down and stay out of my business. If I wanna have me a good time with the boy, I'm gonna.” He hissed out before Daryl tackled him to the ground. Dust flew up around them along with shouted curses and loud grunts of anger. Glenn attempted to yank Merle off of Daryl, but caught an elbow in the chin for his troubles. By the time the commotion attracted Shane and T-Dog Daryl had managed to scramble atop his brother and was making his shaved head slam into the ground with help from his fists. T-Dog hooked his arms under his armpits and yanked him off. The fact that he was beating the shit out of his brother while wearing a dress hadn't sunk in for either men, being more concerned with keeping the racket down and keeping them from killing each other.

“Motherfucker!” Merle snarled, blood pouring from his nose, as Shane dragged him aside. He got to his feet, dizzy but still raring to go. Once in a fight, Merle was the type to keep going until his opponent was down. Shane held him back as he struggled. 

“C'mere you goddamn sissy, you think you can take me?” He howled out at Daryl. His brother tried leaping back towards him but T-Dog held him back.

“Chill out, he ain't worth it.” The man said, shaking Daryl. 

“Let 'im go nigger, if he wants a piece he can come git it.” 

T-Dog glared at the older redneck and held onto Daryl. Despite his fury, Daryl forced himself to calm down and breathe. 

“The hell is going on here?” Shane looked from one redneck to the other, an amused smile growing on his face when he saw just what Daryl was wearing. “Do I even want to know?”

Daryl scoffed. “Doubt it.” Under his breath he added: “Pig.” T-Dog couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his throat when he heard that. 

“Just a little family argument. It's cool.” Merle shrugged off Shane's grip. “No big deal. Just happens to be that my brother is a big fuckin' fairy.” He stalked off. “Goddamn it!”

“You alright Glenn?” Shane asked. The younger man was rubbing his chin and looking rattled. 

“Yeah. I'm fine. You gonna let Merle act like that?” He swirled his tongue around his mouth, a coppery taste pervading it. Great. 

“It's a family affair, and I'm stayin' out of it.” Shane shook his head, taking one more look at Daryl. “Jesus Christ.” He turned his back on them, not wanting to get involved in anything that involved the rednecks and whatever they were into. 

T-Dog let go of Daryl. “Your brother's a real piece of shit ain't he?” 

“No kidding.” Glenn swallowed, still tasting blood. He reached out to Daryl, putting his hand on his shoulder. The redneck was too tired and humiliated to refuse his touch. He sunk to the ground, criss-crossing his legs and covering his face with his hands. 

“I'm sorry he tried to mess with ya.” He muttered to Glenn. The younger man crouched down and put an arm around him.

“Thanks for standing up for me.” Glenn said softly. Daryl had the urge to pull away, because he wasn't worth this kind of trouble, but the younger man wasn't letting go. 

“Damn...Dixon, I think you just went up in my esteem.” T-Dog said. “Merle had that comin'. I think you ripped your dress a little though.”

Daryl looked down. In the tussle, Merle had grabbed onto the dress and managed to tear a swath of the hem from the skirt. “Goddamn it.” 

“I think Dale's got a sewing kit.” T-Dog offered.

“If you want I can take care of it. I'm pretty handy with stuff like that.” Glenn said. Daryl nodded, not inclined to move from his embrace. His head was pounding, his ribs were hurting, and all he wanted was for Glenn to hold him a little while longer. 

T-Dog volunteered to act as a bodyguard in case Merle came back for a second round, but Daryl waved him away. Glenn gave him his cot for the night, but the redneck felt guilty for it. 

“It's no big deal, sleeping on the ground is supposed to be good for your constitution.” The younger man said as the redneck pulled off his dress and examined the rip. “Besides you need the cot more than me.” 

“Goddamn it.” Daryl sighed, letting the garment fall to the floor, not caring if the younger man saw him half-naked. Being in his fancy clothes in front of him made him feel more naked than that. “Can you stop?”

“What?” Glenn fluffed up his backpack in an attempt to make it more comfortable. It wasn't very useful.

“Just...get in the cot with me. There's enough room.” Daryl scooted over. Glenn didn't get in, and that felt worse than the punches he'd received. “Whatev-”

Glenn laid down next to him, his chest to his back and rested his hand on Daryl's bicep. 

“If it gets too hot I can sleep on the ground.” He said quietly. Daryl could feel his breath on his neck when he spoke, and it was soothing. Sleep didn't come easy, but with Glenn's hand on his arm Daryl felt better for it all the same.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: homophobia

Glenn woke up before Daryl. He felt a little sweaty from sleeping next to another warm body, but that was alright. The redneck was snoring, his shoulder rising and falling as he breathed. The younger man leaned in and kissed the back of it. Daryl didn't stir from it so he let his lips linger a bit. He smelled a touch funky from lack of bathing. Glenn figured he smelled about the same at this point. 

He watched the redneck's back move as he snored. There was a map of scars over it, and it made it hard for Glenn to look at it. It made him want to drape the older man in all the nicest, most lovely things he could find. Anything to make Daryl feel pretty and good and make it so whatever memories associated with that map on his back could fall back. Glenn knew there was no erasing them, but there were ways to survive them. 

“You awake?” Daryl's voice sounded groggy. 

“Yeah. You sleep ok?” Glenn stroked his upper arm. He kept expecting Daryl to pull away, but he didn't. Instead he turned to face him, making the fabric of the cot creak. 

“Yeah.” He studied the way Glenn's face looked. His chin was slightly bruised and puffy looking from the blow he'd taken. “Thanks for letting me sleep here.”

“Like I'd let you go near your tent with your brother acting like that.” Glenn tried to give a laugh but it fell flat. “Don't worry, people are on your side.”

“Doubt it.” Daryl sighed. 

“I am. T-Dog is. Andrea will be.” Glenn leaned in and kissed the space between Daryl's furrowed brows. “You don't have to be alone.” 

“Need to go get my crossbow and shit.” Daryl shifted and Glenn sat up to let him up. The redneck sat on the edge of the cot. He knew he had to get up and take care of shit, but moving was too daunting. It was like he wasn't really in his body, so it was impossible to move. Glenn's hand rested on the back of his neck, stroking him, reminding him that he was there with someone who cared. It got him moving a little. He put on his sleeveless t-shirt and pants, but kept the quartz necklace around his neck under his shirt. Its weight was a comfort. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Glenn asked.

“Naw. Better you don't.” Daryl squeezed his shoulder. “I'll deal with it.”

“Be careful ok?” 

**

Shane rubbed his temples. He'd thought it was a good idea to position himself as the leader of this little encampment. Obviously he hadn't counted on Merle. 

“I want that little son of a bitch outta here. He's ruinin' the moral fabric of the camp. Look at what he did to my brother!” Merle was still madder than hell over the previous night. 

“Moral fabric? Really?” Shane shook his head. “Look, I ain't pleased about it either but-”

“Good, so you see where I'm comin' from.” Merle slapped the back of his hand against the palm of his other hand. “The Chinese kid's gotta go. He ain't even that useful. Anyone can sneak and run. Shit I can do that.”

“C'mon now Merle.” 

“Are you tellin' me yer comfortable with having someone like that 'round?” Merle came in closer as if he was telling him something in confidence. “You know how those kinds of people can't be trusted 'round kids.”

“I'll think on it. Now calm down.” Shane wasn't inclined on kicking anyone out, but the scene last night had made him mighty uncomfortable. Especially seeing Daryl in that dress. Just the thought of it made him feel gross. Why anyone would do that, he had no idea. Not to mention the fact that him and Glenn might be...the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth and Merle was starting to make sense. 

“Whatever. Don't say I didn't warn ya.” 

At the tent, Daryl was collecting his things when Merle came back. His brother didn't say anything to him. He just looked at him with contempt and shook his head. 

“Goddamn queer.” He muttered under his breath, but doing it loud enough so that Daryl heard. To his disappointment, his brother didn't respond. He just finished breaking down his tent and left hauling the few belongings he had left.

“Don't bother comin' 'round here no more. Far as I can see, I ain't got no brother, just some bitch who's got the same last name as me!” Merle yelled as Daryl walked away. 

“Fine by me.” Daryl said to himself, trying to ignore the emptiness that came along with those words. Glenn was off doing chores, so he was left alone trying to decide if he should be putting up his tent, or if the younger man would be willing to let him sleep in his cot again. Signs pointed to probably, but he didn't want to be presumptuous. Either way, he had to tend to his snares.

**

The game haul was good, which was comforting. He butchered the squirrels and handed them over to Lori. She didn't look him in the eye as he did, which told him that the word had indeed spread. Fuck it. Let them know and judge if they were going to. 

T-Dog accosted him with a small pouch in hand. “Here's that sewing kit. Hope it helps.”

“Thanks. 'Preciate it.” Daryl mumbled. The quartz pendant on his necklace kept rubbing against his skin, providing a merciful distraction. 

The other man hesitated, then spoke up again. “If your brother hassles you again lemme know. I got your back on this one.”

Daryl looked at him, not sure why this man would have any cause to help him when everyone who walked past him was giving him looks. “'Preciate it.”

He'd expected to feel more anxiety, but in a weird way it was freeing. He didn't have anything to hide now. After cleaning himself up by the water, he returned to Glenn's tent and dug out his ripped dress. Carefully pushing the thread through the eye of the needle, he began sewing it. While he could make arrows and butcher animals with ease, repairing his dress was a challenge. The end result looked crooked, but at least it was fixed. 

He put it on, letting his legs breathe in the hot weather. It felt good. He tugged the necklace around his throat over it. The quartz had gotten smudged from being against his skin so he rubbed it against the flimsy fabric. It shone dully and bounced against his chest as he went to take his post on watch. It drew more stares and a few faint laughs, but he didn't care. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his brother staring at him. Daryl found that he didn't care. For once he felt good. He kept his back straight, took his place on the RV, and looked past the others in the group to the horizon.


	12. Chapter 12

“He looks good.” Andrea said to Glenn, looking up at the RV. The redneck was wreathed in the golden light of the late afternoon, and, to Glenn at least, he looked more than good. He looked goddamn beautiful. 

“Yeah...he does.” The younger man smiled. Merle had left the center of camp in a huff after he saw Daryl, and Shane looked absolutely discouraged at the sight of the redneck in his dress. Glenn tried concentrating all of his mental powers on the former deputy's head, hoping for a “Scanners” type result where his head would explode. No dice, but Shane did look away to tell Lori something. Good enough for now.

“Wait, does Daryl want to be called he or something else?” Andrea asked.

“He hasn't said anything about that. I'll ask. God, that dress is so perfect on him.” Daryl looked down in their direction and Glenn gave him a wave. He waved back, his hardened expression softening. 

“It is. You have good taste.” The blonde nudged him. “And good luck.”

Glenn's cheeks flushed, and his smile grew bigger. “Yeah...I do.”

**

Dinner that night was tense. After his watch duty, Daryl didn't leave Glenn's side. For all his bravery, he still needed to remind himself that someone was there to support him. The others reactions ranged from ignoring him to staring in confusion. Andrea and T-Dog were acting friendlier than normal to him. While it was kind, it was also unnerving. 

Shane kept looking over and him and Glenn, looking increasingly unhappy at the sight. Daryl stared back. His brother hadn't intimidated him, neither would this man. So he sat closer to Glenn as they ate, making it so their knees touched. It was a small defiance, but it was defiance all the same.

As the others left the dinner fire, Sophia rushed over.

“I like your dress, it's pretty.” She said it breathlessly, and as quickly as she'd scurried over she'd gone back to her parents side. It was such an earnest compliment that the redneck felt flustered by it. 

“I'm gonna go turn in.” Glenn patted Daryl's shoulder, but before he could stand up Shane spoke up.

“Hold on, I need to talk to y'all.” He came closer and crouched down. “So what exactly is all of this.” He waved his finger at Daryl then between the redneck and Glenn.

“It is what it is.” The redneck said. 

“That ain't an answer.” 

“Well it's a dumb question.” Glenn spoke up. “I mean, Daryl's just wearing clothes and we're...a thing.” He looked to Daryl and the redneck nodded.

“Yep. That about sums it up.”

“You ain't just wearing clothes, you're wearing a goddamn dress.” Shane's voice rose and it put Glenn on the defensive.

“Last time I checked dresses were clothes.” 

“Women's clothes. You turning into a woman or something?” Shane said it as if someone wanting to be a woman was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Leave Daryl alone!” Glenn wasn't prepared for how loud he said it, and it startled everyone in the vicinity, including Shane. He hadn't been prepared for the younger man to step in. “How he dresses is his business, not yours. Shit, it isn't like anyone's forcing you to look!”

“Come off it Glenn. Just so you two know, if you insist on this,” he motioned from Glenn to Daryl. “ whatever this is, there might not be room for you here.” 

The redneck stood up, making Shane flinch slightly. Instead of getting in his face, he held out his hand to Glenn, and hauled the younger man up. He kept holding onto the younger man's hand as they made their way back to the tent. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Glenn's voice was shaky. “Do you think he meant that? It doesn't make sense, you're, like, essential for the camp with your hunting skills and all of that. Fucking jackass. I bet Merle talked him into it, though it probably didn't take much. I never liked him anyway, guys like that are all the same. Ignorant dickweed. I should've punched him in his dumbass face.”

When Glenn got going there was no stopping him. Daryl sighed. “I dunno.” When they arrived at the tent his shoulders fell and he grasped the skirt of his dress, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger. “I'm sorry I got you involved.”

“What? No, don't be. It was my choice. I wanted to help you.” The younger man took a deep breath. “Maybe we should take off. It might be better if it was just us, away from Merle and Shane. I want you to be safe.” 

“Maybe.” Daryl tried to think of a reason to stay, but none came. Having to face walkers sounded less dangerous than sticking around somewhere were he wasn't welcome. “Can I stay in yer tent again?”

“No, it's forbidden.” Daryl rolled his eyes at his lousy attempt at levity. “Sorry, yeah of course. What, did you think I was going to make you sleep outside in the dirt?”

“Dunno. Maybe.” The redneck gave him a small smile and squeezed the back of his neck. 

They were both surprised at how easy it was to share a space now. It felt just as natural as when Daryl had been using the tent as a place to hide. Now there was no hiding anymore. The redneck felt some guilt, like it had been foolhardy to put himself out there like he had. He was less worried for his own safety, because he knew he could take care of himself. But Glenn, for all his courage, wasn't used to that. 

“You know, you were pretty fucking hardcore today.” The younger man said as they tried to find a comfortable way to lay together on the cot. 

Daryl shrugged. “Figured everyone was gonna be talkin' 'bout it. Might as well shut 'em up.”

“Yeah, but it took some guts.” Glenn stroked his cheek. 

“That ain't guts, it's just...dunno.” Daryl turned over so that the younger man could spoon him. He'd liked sleeping like that the night before.

Glenn nuzzled the back of his neck. “I'm still super proud of you. You're my badass...um...Daryl, did you want me to call you my boyfriend or girlfriend?” 

The redneck blinked. He hadn't really thought of it. And to be honest, he felt like both and neither, and it fluctuated from day to day. It had as far back as he could remember. “I guess I'm both.” He twined his fingers with Glenn's, bringing his hand to his mouth. He kissed the thin skin of the wrist. 

“Ok. You're my badass bothfriend.” Daryl licked his wrist and the sensation made the younger man giggle. “That tickles.” The redneck caught the skin between his teeth and tugged. “Oh! Watch it, that's...oh.” 

Daryl sucked at the skin, then let it go with a smack. “You into that?”

“Yeah, be careful, you might end up making me frisky.” Glenn bit the nape of Daryl's neck, making him yelp. “Oh, so you're into that are you?” 

Daryl turned back over to face the younger man and kissed him. “Guess so.” 

The mood of the kisses was calm at first. Soft, pleasant motions, their lips gently meeting and retreating to kiss other part. Daryl kissed the dip between Glenn's bottom lip and chin, then back up to his cupid's bow. Glenn's hands ran through his hand and rubbed his scalp. It made Daryl wish he had longer hair, so that he could feel the sensation of Glenn's fingers combing through it. That was, if either of them survived that long. That thought sent a cold spike of horror into the redneck's gut.

“Glenn...” The younger man was kissing his neck now, his tongue flicking out against Daryl's jawline. “I dunno...”

Glenn stopped, pulling back. “Are you ok?” His hand had been drifting down to Daryl's thigh, and he removed it and placed it on the redneck's shoulder. 

Daryl nodded.

“We can stop if you don't want to keep going.”

Daryl nodded. “Just for right now...tired.” He sighed. “Sorry.”

“It's fine, don't worry about it.” Glenn rubbed his shoulder. “It's been a long day.” 

“Thanks.” Daryl snuggled in closer, his hands gripping onto Glenn's shirt. It was a little of an awkward position, but he didn't want to move. The younger man stroked and kissed his face, lulling Daryl into a hazy, sleepy place. 

**

Sleep wasn't an easy thing for Andrea anymore, leaving her waking up long before her sister. She could stare at the ceiling in her tent for so long before she became restless. It lead her outside in the gray morning, walking aimlessly. She kicked the dirt with the toes of her shoes. By the road that led out from the quarry, she spotted Glenn and Daryl. Her stomach sank when she saw the backpacks on their backs. 

Her sprint kicked up dust onto her boots. Glenn saw her and motioned to Daryl to wait.

“What are y'all doing?” Andrea asked as she gulped air into her lungs. The fact that her friend was leaving had more to do with that than her run.

“Leaving. It's not safe here for Daryl.” Glenn replied. He put a hand on Andrea's arm. “I'm sorry.”

The blonde nodded. The word had gotten around about Shane's confrontation with the two men. “So this is it?” 

“Yeah. This-I'm going with him.” Glenn sighed. “I know I'm sounding kinda Nicholas Sparks-y, but I lov-...he's my friend and I'm his friend and there's no way I'm gonna stay behind if he leaves.”

Andrea pulled him into a bear hug. “Merle should be the one leaving.” 

“Yeah, but we're not gonna wait around hoping.” Glenn kissed her cheek. “Love you. Tell Amy I love her too ok?”

“I will. Goddamn it, you jerks better stay alive or I'm gonna have to hunt y'all down and kill the both of you.”

Glenn laughed, sniffing back some tears. He was no good with goodbyes. Daryl stood watching not sure what to say. Andrea let Glenn go and went over to hug him. He patted her shoulders, still not sure what to say.

“You better take good care of each other.” Andrea told him. “You look great in your dress.” She let him go, and watched as the two of them walked down the road. Her heart felt squeezed in her chest and she covered her mouth as if it would help. 

“Goddamn it...you better take good care of him.”


	13. Chapter 13

Andrea looked out from her position on top of the RV, trying not to cry. She knew that it was safer for Glenn to leave, but it ached. Their conversations during supply runs had given her so much joy, and he'd always known how to cheer her up when the weight of the world was too much. 

From her vantage point, she could see Merle looking just as morose. Apparently his brother leaving had affected him just as much. She felt no sympathy for him though. He'd been the cause of their leaving, and deserved to feel bad about it. That was one point of relief in the whole affair. At least Glenn and Daryl were away from him and safe.

At least she hoped they would be.

**

“Ok, lets see what we got here.” Daryl said. The first order of business as they made their way away from camp and away from Atlanta was to find transportation. The highways were thick with abandoned cars, so they weren't hurting for choices. But Daryl was insistent on one thing, they had to find a motorcycle.

“I don't see why we need a motorcycle.” Glenn protested. “Wouldn't a car be easier?”

“Hell no. Motorcycle can take ya places a car can't.” They weaved through the cars, Daryl's crossbow at the ready. Glenn was weaponless, and feeling naked. He knew the redneck had his back, but wanted it to be the same vise versa. They'd left the quarry early, packing up all their belongings and carrying them on their backs. There was no point in staying where they weren't wanted and where they might be in danger from people instead of walkers.

Daryl swept his eyes over the highway. The coast was clear for now. Up ahead, laying in the grass that divided the highway, he caught a flash of silver. 

“C'mon.” He waved to the younger man and they trotted over to the shape. It was a Harley-Davidson Softail. There was a half-eaten body not far from it. Judging from the leather vest the corpse had on, it might have been the owner of the bike. “Alright!” Daryl put it upright. It was in decent shape, save for the crust of blood across the middle part. 

“Um, how are we going to get it to work?” Glenn asked, feeling ill at ease at the sight of blood on it. 

Daryl looked along the handlebar and found the ignition wiring. He was about to start yanking it out when Glenn walked away. 

“What're you-” Daryl looked at he crouched down by the corpse and started to rummage through it's pockets. He drew his hand out and hitched his shirt over his nose before going back in. After a minute he held up and wiggled a set of keys at the redneck.

“That was really gross. You owe me.” Glenn muttered as he placed the keys in Daryl's hand. The redneck pulled him close and kissed him, his tongue gliding over the younger man's lips briefly. 

“That even it out?” He asked, and Glenn smiled.

“A little. C'mon, let's blow this popsicle stand.”

“Yer a weirdo kid.” Daryl straddled the bike and got it started.

“So are you and it's fucking awesome.” Glenn kissed the back of his neck. The motorcycle roared to life, and it sounded beautiful. Glenn strapped their gear onto the bike as best he could, and they took off with the younger man holding onto Daryl as they drove up the side of the highway that wasn't congested with abandoned cars. 

“Do you think we should be wearing helmets?” Glenn yelled over the sound of the air rushing past them. Daryl shook his head, and the younger man held on tighter. 

**

The sun was set by the time they found shelter in an abandoned motel. They barricaded a room and settled in. There was no water, but they had enough to last until the next day. Daryl volunteered to keep watch first, and Glenn quickly fell asleep on the bed. 

Daryl leaned back in the chair by the door. The fact that he'd left his brother behind was finally hitting home. He knew he'd made the right decision for his safety and Glenn's, but he'd been taught that family is important above all else. No matter what. To put family anywhere but first was dishonorable. 

That ideal wasn't something he was willing to burn himself at the stake for anymore, but it's effect couldn't be stopped. He covered his mouth and tried to keep the self-reproach at bay and the sounds of his sobs down, but he couldn't. Even though he thought he was being quiet, Glenn stirred and woke up.

“You ok?” Glenn sounded so concerned that the redneck felt even more guilty for waking him up. Daryl wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Fine. Go back to sleep. You gotta take watch next.”

Instead, Glenn came over to his side and rested his head on the redneck's thigh. He didn't say anything, and Daryl was thankful for that. The redneck stroked his hair. This kind, loving man had made him leave his brother behind. When Glenn looked up at him, it reminded him that it had been the right choice. Nobody had ever looked at Daryl that way. Nobody had ever accepted him like Glenn either. 

“I know you had to give up a lot...just...look, even if you don't wanna be with me romantically I'll always be your friend and never leave you behind.” Glenn stroked the side of Daryl's thigh. “I'll have your back.”

“Thanks.” Daryl didn't have it in him to smile, but Glenn's smile was enough for the both of them. 

“I hope you still wanna be with me romantic-like though, because I'm kinda crazy about you.” Glenn looked back down, studying Daryl's pants.

“Yer crazy alright.” The redneck sighed tugging him up so that the younger man was seated across in his lap. “But so am I.” He nuzzled Glenn's arm, pressing a kiss against the baseball jersey that the younger man always wore. “Go get some sleep already.” 

“You know we could sleep together. I mean at the same time. We've got a good barricade.” 

“Can't afford to let our guard down right now.” Daryl stroked his back. “When we're someplace safer we can.” 

“I'm gonna hold you to that.” Glenn kissed the redneck on the lips.

**

“You holdin' up?” 

Andrea looked up at T-Dog, blinking back her tears. “Yeah. I'm just worried, that's all. I miss Glenn like crazy already.”

The burly man sat down next to her by the fire. “Don't worry. Daryl...Daryl knows how to handle himself out there, and so does Glenn. They're gonna be ok.”

The blonde nodded. “You know, I'm surprised you were willing to have that guy's back, considering that his brother's such an asshole.”

T-Dog shrugged. “One of my cousins, she was kinda like Daryl. People gave her shit for being who she was, like it would make her magically go back to pretending to being a guy.” T-Dog gazed past the fire, not seeing anything but the memory of a family member who was probably lost. “Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. We grew up together yaknow? We got separated when all this shit went down...” He trailed off, the idea of vocalizing what he feared to be true might make it true. 

“Hey, I'm sure she's ok out there somewhere.” Andrea put a hand on T-Dog's shoulder.

“Yeah. Just wish I knew, one way or the other.”

They sat side by side, united in loss, both afraid for the other's loved ones and their own. If Hell existed, this was it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: violence against walkers

The roads were awkward and full of dead cars and bodies. Daryl and Glenn kept looking ahead and did their best not to look. They had no clue as to where they might be going, but going was all they could do. Signs along the road advertised gas stations that were now abandoned, restaurants that offered no food, and, as they passed through a ritzy looking suburb, a mall.

“LET'S GO THERE!” Glenn shouted, and Daryl turned off at the right exit. A walker with sores all over its face looked up from it's wanderings to see them go across the ramp. It let out a rattle, and went back to chewing on the body in front of it. The noises and movement a temporary distraction from the most important thing, hunger and the way to sate that hunger. 

The parking lot was empty save for plants and trees strategically planted around and waving slightly in the breeze, and the mall stood huge and hopefully empty in front of them. They could see signs for Macy's and J.C. Penny's, and it was familiar. 

“This is some Dawn Of The Dead shit. Why the hell did ya wanna come here?” Daryl grumbled as they slowly traversed the lot. 

“Well, it sounded like a good place to hide out, and we can have fun here.” Glenn said, the motorcycle idling down to a halt in front of the doors of the Macy's. 

“Whatever.” The redneck took out his crossbow. “Keep yer machete handy.” 

They'd made a stop at a hardware store that had had knives in stock. Most of which had been looted, but in the back Glenn had found himself a blade. He was quite chuffed about it, and his pride at swinging it around had made Daryl laugh, but he'd laughed with tenderness in his heart.

They forced the sliding doors open, closing them behind themselves, and weaved through the racks to the front of the store. The mall was quiet, and their footsteps sounded loud. 

“Do you think there's any walkers in here?” Glenn whispered. 

“Probably.” Daryl breathed out. “Keep yer eyes sharp.”

They walked around the first floor, peering into the locked up stores. Everything was so still it was like nothing was wrong. There were clothing stores, shoe stores, a pharmacy, a Gamestop, all the usual stores. Glenn half-expected to see some mall-walkers to stroll by in their sweat-suits. There was a strong stench coming from the food court, so they walked quicker past it. 

Up the stairs to the second floor they went past more abandoned stores. As they made their way around, Daryl heard a squeaking, shuffling noise up ahead. He held his arm out in front of Glenn's chest, making him stop. The younger man gripped his machete and looked in the same direction that Daryl was looking at. The noise was coming from around the bend, and they slowly went forward, keeping close to the store display windows. 

Around the corner was a group of five walkers. Two of them were dressed in security guard uniforms, and the rest were in button down shirts and dark slacks. Daryl figured that they were probably former mall employees. Not that it really mattered. He aimed, and got one of the security guards through the skull. It fell with a thud, and the rest turned their attentions towards them. 

Daryl reloaded his crossbow, yanking back the mechanism that held the arrow. As he did, the other security guard got too close for Glenn''s comfort, and he lifted his machete up and slammed it down into it's skull. The crunching, squelching sound it made made him want to barf, but that had to wait. He yanked his blade back and pulled Daryl back. The walkers weren't slowpokes. They ran, back, putting enough distance between them so that Daryl could finish reloading. When he did, he sent another arrow through another skull.

“You're good at that.” Glenn said, readying himself with his machete. The redneck grabbed it out of his hands, handing him the crossbow. 

“This is quicker.” Before the younger man could protest, Daryl rushed forward, yanked a walker to the ground and dispatched it. Clammy hands grabbed at the back of his shirt, making him wheel around, but before he could sink the blade into its head, it collapsed. He saw Glenn standing behind it with a red emergency ax in his hand.

“Look out!” Daryl looked up to see a walker close to falling onto him. Keeping low, he rushed it, pushing it against and up the ledge of the second story walkway. The force made it tip over the side. The sound it made when it hit the tiles below was nothing short of revolting. Glenn took a look over and winced.

“Oh Christ. Daryl, you know how jack in the boxes work?”

“Yeah?” Daryl wiped the machete off on one of the walkers. 

“Walker guts work the same way.” Glenn made a retching sound and forced himself to swallow. “Ugh. Gross.”

“Where the hell didya get that ax from?” Daryl asked.

“Fire emergency stuff was over there.” He pointed towards the bathroom. Daryl hadn't noticed where their running had taken them. 

“Smart.” He smiled, his heart still pumping hard from their fight. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but he suddenly had the urge to push Glenn up against a wall and do what came naturally. But where there were some walkers there was always the risk of there being more. It would have to wait. 

Once they were done walking the perimeter of the second floor, they were certain that it was clear. To be certain, they checked the bathrooms on the second floor, then the first. Their luck was holding, and they were all clear. 

“I think we should stay here. I know, it's real Dawn Of The Dead, but it's-” Glenn exclaimed as they finished checking the last bathroom, only to be interrupted by Daryl pushing him up against the wall and kissing him hard. He didn't protest, instead he dropped the ax and gripped onto the back of Daryl's head. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, adrenaline and starvation.

“Shit. You did so good up there.” Daryl wheezed out. “Seein' you do what you did got me feelin'...”He laughed.

“Same. Daryl, I think-do you wanna? It's safe right now, we could...” Glenn pressed up against him. “Is that weird?”

“Naw. Been wantin' to for a while.” Daryl reached down, rubbing the palm of his hand against the younger man's groin. “Damn. You want it dontcha?” He grabbed at Glenn through his pants, and the younger man choked out a gasp. 

“Yeah, want you so bad.” He pulled Daryl into another kiss. One of his hands slid down and shoved their way into Daryl's pants. The heat of the younger man's hand and the shock of being touched there for the first time in a long time made the redneck shudder. Even before things had gotten easy between them, he'd imagined about how it would be to do this with Glenn. To his joy, it was better than he could have thought up of. They scrambled to push their pants down, unable to stop kissing while they did. First it was enough to grind against one another, sweaty flesh sticking to each other, but then Glenn took them both in hand and began stroking. Daryl braced his hands against the ceramic tiles on the wall, holding himself up so he could keep kissing Glenn. 

“Can't believe...Oh Christ that's good, go faster dammit.” Daryl gasped out in between heated kisses before deciding his tongue was better served being in Glenn's mouth rather than trying to form words. The only thing he could utter after that was a drawn out, muffled “fuck” as he orgasmed. He reached down to take Glenn in hand and got him off good and fast, leaving the younger man whimpering out his name.

They stood leaning against the wall, their kisses turning slow and tender as relief made them both relax. Glenn nuzzled the redneck's cheek, and he did it in turn, his goatee rubbing up against the younger man's face.

“That tickles.” Glenn breathed out with a smile. 

“Been thinkin' of shavin'.” Daryl hugged him closer. “Think I might look prettier without it.”

“Aw, you're pretty no matter what. But if you wanna do that, I'm sure we can find you some razors and stuff. God, I...I really like you. Like, love you.” Glenn held his breath, hoping that he hadn't spoken too soon.

Daryl didn't say anything, but he kissed Glenn's neck, and when he drew back he held the younger man's face in his hands. He looked like he was being honest, but Daryl was too cautious to believe it just yet. It sure was nice to hear though.

“D'you think the water might still be working?” Glenn nodded towards the sinks.

“Lets see.” Daryl pulled away, and grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall, and tidied himself up. While Glenn was doing the same he turned on a faucet. It gurgled, and spurted out water. 

“Alright!” He leaned down to drink. It was cool, and it tasted good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to put this story on hiatus for a few days. A lot of stuff is going on in my personal life and I'm going to be traveling tomorrow. Stay tuned, I'll be back soon once I have the ability to sit down and write.


	15. Chapter 15

The bodies were easy to carry out. Neither of them were keen on touching the walkers directly, so they raided the Macy's linen section and carried out the bodies in 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. It seemed like a waste of good sheets, but at least they didn't have to touch them.

As they prepared to dispose of the walker that had fallen over the railing, Glenn examined the body. It had been one of the security guards. He had no weapons, but there was a ring of keys on his belt. Hitching up the rubber dish gloves they'd taken from the pharmacy, he knelt down. The stench flooded his nose despite having tied a shirt around his face. Glenn could feel it in the back of his throat. He yanked the keys off, and jumped up with a cough.

“I can get this one.” Daryl said. His voice was muffled behind his bandanna. 

“Thanks.” The younger man sat down on one of the marble planters. The palms planted in them looked yellowed and the dirt that they were planted into looked dry. He dug his fingers in it, combing them through it. The way the dirt brushed against his skin was soothing.

Daryl hauled the parts one at a time, first the top half and the guts, then the bottom. The force of the fall had not only busted the walker's head open, but popped off its torso from its hips. He left drips of blood as he hauled them out. Ideally they should be burned, but for now all that could be done was to leave them outside. Him and Glenn were far enough away from them that it wouldn't be a big deal. Once he was done, he stripped off his gloves and wheeled in his motorcycle, leaving it inside by the doors. Better to be safe than sorry. There was no locking mechanism, so the redneck just pushed the door shut. They could pull down the gate at the entrance of the store to be safe. 

The store like this was unnatural. The whole place was unnatural now, like cracking open a peanut shell and finding it empty. The sun was fading, leaving an eerie dimness inside the mall. He wandered through the aisles slowly. The events of the day were blurry. The ride there. The walkers. Him and Glenn in the bathroom. Unconsciously, a small smile grew on his face. Being with Glenn like that had been stellar. Even though he'd just finished disposing of rotting bodies, he still felt hazy and loved from it. 

At the entrance facing the mall, Glenn was waiting, keys in hand. 

“Lets see what these can open.” He jingled the ring at Daryl.

**

There were keys for stores, keys for electrical panels, and, most importantly, keys to get into the security sections of the mall. They walked past the employee lounge and the lockers, and found their way to the main office. There were controls there for the climate and the electricity. Out of curiosity, Glenn started to flip switches. Nothing, until he flipped the switch labeled “main.” With a flicker lights came on.

“The fuck?” Daryl blinked as the flickering tubes above alighted and made their flashlights unnecessary.   
“This place must have a backup electric system.” Glenn flipped on climate control and a whoosh and whirring preceded a blast of cool air from above. “Hell yes! Air conditioning!” 

Their continued investigations brought them to a bathroom with an emergency shower. “Running water, AC, we're gonna be living high on the hog here.” Glenn clapped Daryl's shoulder. The redneck liked the sound of that word. “We.”

They settled on staying in the control room, since it could be locked and they could keep an eye on the rest of the mall via the video camera feeds. Two tins of sardined accompanied by saltines with a shared can of fruit cocktail for dessert made an alright supper. Glenn laid out his sleeping bag then placed Daryl's on top. 

“Do you mind sharing?” He asked.

“Naw.” Daryl smiled a tiny bit. “But if you fart in yer sleep I'm kickin' you the hell out of it.”

The younger man laughed, and the redneck felt good for hearing it.

**

There was a Nordstroms on the opposite side of the Mall from where they'd entered, and the next morning Glenn dragged Daryl along to it. 

“C'mon, you need to get yourself something nice. So do I.” Glenn unlocked the gate at the entrance and pushed it up. The doors to the store were easily unlocked and pushed open.

“Why, so you have somethin' nice to wear if you get bit?” Daryl grumbled.

“Well, yeah.”

“You don't gotta worry 'bout that. If you get bit I'll be there to put yer dumb ass down. But that ain't gonna happen.” 

“How do you figure?” Once unlocked the doors Glenn pushed the doors open and locked them in place. 

“You got me watchin' yer back you idiot.” Daryl grabbed Glenn by the elbow and kissed him. They stood in the quiet mall, mouths pressed together. Gone was the desperation and adrenaline from yesterday. This kiss was not a declaration of desire, more of a way to underline the redneck's point. Daryl wasn't sure if he could keep his promise, but he was too in love to think about that kind of stuff. The way he felt right then he figured he could take on anything that might come at them.

Glenn pulled away and tugged Daryl towards the dresses. The redneck trailed his hand over them. Some were light, gossamer things, others were heavy with embellishments. The younger man began rifling through the racks. He had a pretty good sense of the redneck's tastes now. Something simple, but cute. Leaving Daryl, he went into the Juniors rack to try and find just that. 

Daryl wandered through the racks, for once not angry at the beauty of the clothes. Now he felt at home in their prettiness. The evening dresses were nice but ostentatious. Too flashy by far for him, but he still took a one sleeved black sheath that had a dusting of iridescent sequins running down the sleeve to the bodice and held it up to his body. It would probably fit. 

“What the hell.” He grinned to himself. It was nice to do this and not worry. Dropping his crossbow, which he insisted on taking despite Glenn saying it was safe, he took off his shirt and dropped his pants. The dress fit tight, but it was supposed to. Reaching back, he tried to zip it up but only got halfway. It was good enough for the moment. 

Looking in the full length mirror by the dressing room, he couldn't stop grinning. It wasn't his style, but it looked kind of sexy, even with his boots. He turned sideways, and let out a sigh. The dress really emphasized his lack of ass. He tried arching his back to at least give the illusion of it, but it was to no avail. 

“Hey, I found some stuff, do you-wow!” 

Daryl turned his head and scoffed at Glenn's expression. He was as wide-eyed as the first time he'd see the redneck in that white dress.

“That looks great on you! Didn't think you were a sequins kinda person.” He said and held out the garments he'd found.

“I ain't.” Daryl put on a coy look. “Can you unzip me?”

The younger man swallowed, shifted the dresses so they were resting in the crooks of his arms, and came closer. He slowly pulled the zipper down, the sound of the metal teeth being pulled apart and the way it pulled the fabric tighter for a fraction of a second made the redneck quiver inside. Daryl had never considered how deeply arousing clothing could be. It was beyond “sexy” clothing, designed to make the wearer feel sexy and powerful. It was the natural state of being in clothes that actually suited him and made him feel more himself. 

He turned towards Glenn, and grasped his chin. Right now, all his brain could muster was that he was feeling good, and that to kiss this person would make him feel even better. The act absorbed them so much that they didn't notice the movement coming towards them. The sound of a cough made them pull apart and look, and that was the last motion they managed as the shock settled in.


	16. Chapter 16

Being face to face with strangers was something to be worried about now. When he'd arrived at the quarry, Glenn knew he'd lucked out because they all seemed like pretty decent folk. However, he was now faced with a group of strangers that had weapons drawn on them.

“Uhm, I think you have us at a disadvantage here.” Glenn managed to stammer out.

The woman at the head of the group lowered her shotgun. She was tall, dark-skinned, with close -cropped hair and the kind of face that inspire people to create sculptures honoring it. 

“Sorry to interrupt. We came looking for shelter, and we were kinda surprised to see y'all.” 

A small ripple of laughter sounded from the two other women in the back. One was much shorter than the other, plumper too. The taller one's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and covered her mouth as she spoke to the other. There was also two men there, both dressed in army fatigues and both looking far too young to be wearing that kind of uniform. They all looked tired and relieved to find shelter. Even with their guns drawn, they looked like there was just about anything else they'd rather do. They did not look surprised at the scene they'd interrupted. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Daryl wanted to yell at them to turn around so he could get changed in peace. The dark-skinned woman waved at her friends to back down. Apparently she was the leader. 

“Y'all have a claim on this place already?”

“Naw.” Daryl said, deciding that if these strangers weren't going to leave them be he might as well finish changing. He slipped off the dress, causing the strangers to avert their eyes. “We got here yesterday. Seemed like a good place to hide out.” He grabbed one of the dresses Glenn still had in his arms. It was a strappy, plain blue sun dress made out of stretchy fabric with a flowing skirt. He slipped it on, and smoothed it out defiantly. 

“Well would either of you be opposed to sharing? We'll stay out of your way of course.” The woman cocked her head. “Nice dress. That blue suits you.” She said it with no hint of derision.

“Thanks. Whaddya say?” He turned to Glenn. The younger man shrugged.

“It's a big place. Plenty of room for everyone.” Glenn straightened his back. “I'm Glenn, this is my-this is Daryl.”

The woman smiled at them. “I'm Kayla. This is Mike and Smitty.” She pointed to the two young men, who nodded one after the other. “And that's Laura and Carmen.”

“Real pleased to make your acquaintance.” Carmen, the shorter woman, said.

Daryl looked at them with some frowning apprehension, but said nothing. 

**

The group of newcomers set up their camp in the J.C. Penny's. Daryl didn't like being that wide in the open.

“We should be somewhere easy to close off. Just in case.” He pointed out to Glenn. 

“You're probably right.” Glenn looked at the shoe store that Daryl had suggested turning into their home. “You think we can haul a mattress up in here?” 

“Probably.” He said, brushing a loose thread from his dress. “We can put up stuff to cover up the windows and shit. So we can have privacy.” The redneck couldn't resist giving Glenn's behind a quick squeeze as he said that. 

“Hell yes.” Glenn opened up the store after trying key after key, and tossed their backpacks into it. “Lets go take care of it.” 

They dragged a mattress out of the second floor of the Nordstroms with some effort, with Daryl pushing and Glenn pulling. They'd decided on a queen sized one because neither of them had ever had a big bed before. Once they had it in there, they began tossing the shoes on display into the back room of the store. Soon it began to look like a livable space.

“Wow, y'all work fast.” Smitty stood at the entrance of the store, watching Glenn try to put up sheets to cover the windows.

“Yep. Well, we're probably gonna be here for a bit. Hopefully.” He climbed down from the step ladder they'd found in the back. 

“Yeah. I was stationed out in Atlanta when-Mike was there too. We ran when shit got bad. Sounds bad huh?” He laughed nervously, his hands twisting the front of his shirt. Glenn looked at his lack of stubble and nervous eyes. He looked barely out of his teens.

“No. It's survival now, so you gotta do...whatever.” Glenn wasn't sure if those particular words were what was needed.

“I guess...Um, just so you know, you don't gotta worry about anyone messing with you and Daryl. Me and Mike, well, we're, uh. You know. So it's cool.” 

“Ok.” Glenn hesitated then clapped his arm. “Good for you two.”

“So are Laura and Carmen. Jesus, it's like a big ol' gathering of gays or something up in here now.” He laughed again. “You two need any food or water? We don't got much but we can share.” 

“We're good. Daryl's gonna try and hunt tomorrow. He's super good at it. Aren't you?” He turned to the redneck as he emerged from the back. He'd decided to look through the back to see what he could find. There'd been a small cache of snacks in the desk back there, and he tossed a packet of Oreo's at the younger man. 

“What now?” He held out another package of cookies to Smitty. He took them with a look of gratitude on his face.

“You're the number one hunter in the world, duh.” Glenn tucked the snacks into his pocket. 

“Oh.” Daryl shrugged and tore open the candy bar he'd found. His teeth sank into the soft chocolate and caramel, coating the inside of his mouth thickly. 

“He's humble this one. He's the best. Trust me.”

The redneck looked down at the candy bar as he took bites of it while the younger man went on about all the animals Daryl could track and kill. Listening to him, anyone would have thought that the redneck had been single-handedly responsible for feeding their old camp. Why Glenn thought of him so damn highly he still wasn't sure, but it felt damn good. He'd set up snares and stuff later in the trees around the parking lot. If Glenn kept it up he was going to have a reputation to live up to.


	17. Chapter 17

The sun was barely rising but Daryl was already deep in the sparse woods around the mall. He'd set up the snares, hoping that there would be some rabbits or squirrels around. He dusted off his dress, then realized that he had to pick the dried leaved off of it. The redneck had opted to wear it over his pants for the hunting. It felt pretty comfortable, except for the crossbow strap rubbing against his back. Next time he'd have to opt for something that covered him up a little more, but the way that Glenn had looked at him with the dress on had made him feel kind of great. He didn't wear it for him, but being looked at like he was a sight to behold didn't hurt.

Emerging from the trees, he looked around the expanse of the parking lot wearily. There was motion on the end north of where he was, and he couldn't tell what it was. Daryl headed back into the trees, and crept towards it. If it was a walker, better to take care of it pronto. 

He ducked under a veil of kudzu, and stopped. A small herd of deer was resting under the trees. Shouldering his crossbow, he took aim at the one closest to him. It looked up towards him with it's large, dark eyes, and before it could be startled, Daryl had fired off his arrow. It pierced it's side, but it leaped up and ran along with the others. 

“Fuck!” 

He went after it, pushing aside branches and running. The animal hobbled along, the pain in it's side overtaking the adrenaline of the initial shock. It staggered out on the other side of the trees, out on a grassy hill. Its legs buckled and it fell to the ground. Daryl jogged towards it, victorious in his kill.

But that sense of victory distracted him. 

The shove threw him to the ground, and he slid down the hill with a hungry, one armed walker trying to hang onto him. He grabbed it by the throat, trying to keep its gnashing mouth away from him and reached under his dress for his knife. In the tussle, one of his arrows popped off the crossbow and cut his shoulder. Abandoning the knife, Daryl grabbed for it, rolled the walker over and slammed the arrow through its eye. It exhaled a rattling breath, making him jump back with a retch. He sat in the grass, catching his breath. The cut on his shoulder throbbed, but the walker hadn't managed to get in a bite or scratch. It had been too close though. 

Daryl tore off a strip of fabric from the edge of his dress and pressed it against the wound. He could feel the blood soak through it. A twinge of fear came over him and he looked over his arms. There were no cuts from the walker, but he could not let go of the fear that maybe it had nicked him somehow. 

“Jesus Christ, calm down.” He muttered to himself, as if those words would magically snap him out of it. But it didn't. There was an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach, a kind of gripping, roiling sensation. But he couldn't stay wallowing in it. He had to get the meat back as soon as he could before it began to spoil under the heat of the sun. Glenn would worry if he was gone for too long.

He stumbled to his feet and back up the hill towards the deer, this time paying attention to his surroundings. He hauled the animal over his shoulders and made his way back to the mall. 

**

“Well damn, your man wasn't kidding about you being the best hunter around.” 

Kayla had seen him enter the mall with the deer over his shoulders. Daryl hadn't expected her to come up to him, and simply shrugged off the carcass.

“Gotta find a spot to dress it.”

“I'll help you. I used to help my daddy with that kind of thing all the time.” She took the animal by the hind legs and helped Daryl carry it into the food court. They'd been working on clearing out the rotting food so that they could use the space. Glenn and the rest had been hauling out garbage all morning, and all looked pretty disgusted.

“What happened to your arm?” Kayla asked as they maneuvered the carcass to the back of one of the fast food joints. They figured they could dress and clean the meat back there. They'd figure out how to run the electricity on the most essential settings, so the fridges were up and running again. Their hum was soothing.

“Walker jumped me. I got scratched by my own goddamn arrow.” 

“You alright?” They hauled the beast up on one of the prep counters.

“Yeah.”

“Should bandage that up. I can start on this while you do.” She began rummaging for the materials to collect the innards and blood of the animal and clean it out. 

“Thanks. You sure you can-”

She interrupted the redneck. “I told you, used to do this with my daddy all the time when I was young. I know how to dress deer, rabbits. Even butchered a squirrel once or twice.” She stared at him, amused. “You think that just 'cause I'm a beautiful woman I can't handle a little blood and guts?”

“No.” He glanced down at the torn hem of his dress. Kayla chuckled. “Just don't meet a whole lotta people who would volunteer to do it.” 

“Fair enough. Too bad about your dress. I hope there's another one in the store in your size, because it looks very cute.”

Daryl's cheeks got a little hot and he scoffed. 

“I mean it. Don't get all bashful now.” Kayla cuffed his uninjured arm. “Shit, you've got no idea how relieved I was to see you and Glenn.”

“How's that?” He dug out his knife and placed it on the counter for her to use.

“Better to be around like-minded folks than not.” 

**

As soon as Glenn saw the redneck's injury he started fretting over it, and dragged him to one of the bathrooms to wash it. Daryl decided not to go into too much detail over how he's acquired the cut. No need to worry him. 

“Jesus, you gotta be careful.” Glenn grumbled as he bandaged the wound. 

“I can do that yaknow.” 

“You can't reach the area that well, plus knowing you you wouldn't have cleaned it out well enough.” He smoothed the gauze over Daryl's injury and finished taping it down. The redneck just shook his head. Glenn was right, but it was his nature to put up a fight, even when someone was being sweet to him.

That was something else he could get used to. Daryl wasn't sure that was a good thing though. 

**

Kayla managed not only to butcher the meat herself, but also cook enough for everyone. Daryl and Glenn sat with the others, eating the lean meat with their fingers. The redneck had to give it to her, she knew what she was doing. He watched the woman from afar. She was sitting next to Carmen, the two of them joking about something he wasn't paying attention to. 

“She's pretty rad isn't she?” Glenn whispered to Daryl.

He nodded, and stopped his staring. It wasn't like he was getting any answers anyway. It baffled him how she had accepted seeing him in a dress so quickly. Better that than the other option though. After she was done Daryl saw her take a bag from her pocket, shake out a couple of pills from it, and gulp them down. It was a casual gesture, performed without sneakiness. The redneck finished chewing his mouthful and decided that whatever it was, it didn't concern him.

“You wanna get another dress?” Glenn asked him.

“Later.” His lips quirked up into a small smile. “I think goin' up to our quarters and being on the mattress sounds better, don't it? I don't gotta watch from the roof tonight.” 

He couldn't hold back a laugh when he saw how red Glenn's cheeks turned.


	18. Chapter 18

The mattress they'd dragged into their new quarters was comfortable. After sleeping on cots or on the ground, being able to lie down and not wake up with aches and pains was a luxury beyond words. The one night they'd spent at the motel reminded them of that, and now that they had the opportunity, they were going to take advantage. Though Glenn would've been content with just a sleeping bag as long as he was sleeping next to Daryl, this set up was just the thing. 

The firm support of the springs made it even more lovely for the younger man to recline and exchange the multitude of kisses that Daryl wanted at the moment. His fingers skimmed over the redneck's bandaged shoulder. If he'd had a day like Daryl had experienced, Glenn figured he'd also want to do something nice and distracting.

He reached down with one hand and tugged at the ruined hem of the blue dress. At this rate, Daryl was liable to end up ripping every dress he wore. Glenn smiled to himself. Hopefully they would be able to live here a while. It would be easy to keep the redneck in dresses that way.

“Hold on.” Daryl muttered, rolling onto his back. He kicked off his pants, leaving him wearing only the dress and his underwear. Tugging Glenn closer, he took his hand in his and guided it to his thigh. The redneck looked at Glenn expectantly, waiting for him to make the move. The younger man slipped his hand under the soft fabric, stroking up Daryl's hairy thigh. His skin radiated heat and it was hottest between his legs. Glenn pressed his hand against the bulge there. He moved the palm in circles as he kissed the redneck, waiting until he got hard before pulling his underwear down. Daryl breathed in sharply. 

It struck the younger man that if they never went further than this he'd still be as happy as can be. Just seeing the redneck's expression relax and his body slump against his was more than enough. With his hand under Daryl's dress, he stroked him slow, watching as a dark, damp spot grew on the front of the dress as he did. 

“You're so wet.” Glenn breathed out. His thumb stroked the tip and he brought it to his mouth, licking it. “And sweet.” 

The redneck let out a shaky exhalation. He had no idea that Glenn had it in him to be so seductive. He was so used to seeing him as a kind, sweet, patient man that this was throwing him. It was more than welcome though. Then Glenn had his hand on him again, and all that mattered was the drag of his palm and the way he moved his wrist.

The first time they'd done this it had been so quick that Daryl hadn't gotten a chance to think about what was happening besides the immediate physical need to be close to Glenn. Now that they were doing it slow, he noticed how Glenn squinted and frowned a little as he moved his hand faster. He noticed how Glenn's breath smelled like the meat they'd just eaten. How sweat formed in pearls on the younger man's upper lip, and how he could make out the faintest hair there. 

It made Daryl love him even more, because it all meant he was real in that moment with him. He was real and every touch and look said that he was in love. The redneck hiked his dress up. The wet patch on it felt uncomfortable against his belly, but it was already pretty well fucked. After the day he'd had, the dress was pretty much wrecked. Might as well...

“Tear it offa me.” The redneck growled out. 

“What? Tear what?” Glenn looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

“The dress.” 

There was a beat of silence between them, and Daryl realized how ridiculous his request must have sounded. He opened his mouth to tell Glenn to forget about it, but the younger man sat up, grabbed the neckline of the dress, and tore the bodice apart with one clean yank. Daryl gasped, and grabbed onto the back of Glenn's neck

“Fuck.” The redneck breathed out, and pulled him into a frantic kiss. “Holy...fuck.” 

Glenn's hands ran down his chest, stroking its light colored hair. “Yeah.” He grinned widely. And with a swift pull, tore the dress all the way down the middle, leaving Daryl exposed. The redneck grabbed his shirt and pulled it off as swiftly as possible before scrabbling for his pants. When their naked bodies pressed together, they both let out sighs of relief. Arousal didn't matter so much as the need to feel each other, to be reminded that they were there, that they'd made it through another day and it was alright. Daryl nuzzled Glenn's neck. The younger man pressed his lips from the redneck's collarbone upwards, the chains of the necklaces around Daryl's neck sticking to his lips. 

The redneck tipped his head back, eyes closed, as Glenn kissed the underside of his chin. His lips were the greatest comfort Daryl could think of. Then the younger man moved his hips. 

The springs inside the mattress creaked with the motion of their bodies. The sheets they'd strung up over the windows blocked out the light, leaving the only light the small white lamp Glenn had found. It was a strange environment, but they were both in it. And that made it comfortable.

They moved with short thrusts that grew quicker as they both got closer. Glenn was first, spilling out all over Daryl. His breathing was halting as he collapsed, but he forced himself back up so he could reach down and stroke the redneck. His hand was good and Daryl was slick from pre-cum and from Glenn. The tension made the redneck's toes curl, but he couldn't reach the apex.

“Fuck.” He growled out in frustration, his head hitting the mattress. “So close-”

“Hold on.” Glenn shifted and his tongue joined the efforts his hand was making. The warm slickness made Daryl arch, his ass pressing into the mattress. 

“Jesus!” He gasped out as the licking pushed him up into an orgasm that left him grabbing at the edge of the mattress above his head. It left him laying still and breathing heavy. Daryl wasn't totally inexperienced, but he couldn't remember ever feeling this close to anyone who'd done what Glenn had just done. His hands left the edge of the mattress and tugged Glenn back up to lay close to him.

Their bodies were sticky, but being close mattered more than that. 

“Love you so much.” Daryl sighed out, comfort and happiness enveloping him just like Glenn's arms. The feeling was so potent he actually could find the words to express how much this meant to him. He nuzzled against Glenn's chest, the sparse hairs tickling him. “So good to me.”

The younger man just hummed with contentment, and stroked the redneck's hair. 

**

Glenn woke up late, the curtains over the windows blocking out the light and confusing him. He dressed and wandered towards the roof. Daryl had the morning rooftop watch shift today. There were solar panels on top of it, but it provided shelter and camouflage for anyone up there. It was hot up there even with the sky overcast. He weaved through the panels, and spied Daryl at the edge of the roof. He was wearing the black dress that Glenn had found for him at that thrift shop, and it looked just as cute as ever. It skimmed the tops of his thighs nicely, showing off their musculature. 

“Hey.” Glenn called out and Daryl turned to look at him. The younger man let out a gasp and a laugh. “Wow, look at you.” 

Daryl stroked his clean shaven face. “Yeah. The fuzz needed to go. Whaddya think?” His painted-red lips stretching into a smile.

“You look great. It's very you.” Glenn kissed the redneck's cheek. Without the facial hair, he looked much younger. More importantly, Daryl was smiling and his body was relaxed. He put his hand under the younger man's shirt and gave the small of Glenn's back a tickle. “You look beautiful, as always.”

Glenn laughed again at how flushed Daryl's cheeks got and how he looked down to the ground, trying to hide the grin lighting up his face.


	19. Chapter 19

The weather got colder. The trees lost their leaves. Walkers became slower and slipped on the patches of ice. Daryl layered clothes so he could still get away with wearing dresses despite the wind and the cold.

As months passed his appearance changed. He let his goatee grow back, only to shave it in a fit when he looked into the mirror one morning and found that he didn't recognize himself. He didn't want any kind of hair on his chin and once it was gone the redneck saw himself again. He tried smudging black eyeliner around his eyes to try to make them look bigger, but he made himself look like a raccoon instead. Kayla showed him how to do it right, and he was thankful for that. 

Daryl looked at himself in the mirror and liked his appearance. The first time it shocked him. He wasn't used to liking himself like that. Now he smiled at himself and checked his hair, wishing it would grow faster. He wanted it to be long so like that when Glenn stroked his hair it would feel nicer.

Glenn watched the redneck and shared his happiness. He comforted Daryl when he felt low, a lifetime of being told he had to be a certain way was hard to break out of. On those days when Daryl got quiet and separated himself from the others, Glenn always checked on him, sitting with him until the redneck was ready to talk. Sometimes he didn't. Sometimes he just sat closer to Glenn, laid his head on the younger man's shoulder, and breathed slowly. If that was what he needed, Glenn was ready to give it to him.

Daryl taught the others how to set up snares and how to track animals. Carmen turned out to be a natural at it, so she ended up going out with him most days to get meat. Glenn led expeditions to get whatever they couldn't find in the mall. It was as good a life as anyone could hope for in dangerous times. 

At night Daryl curled up next to Glenn, making sure they had enough blankets for the both of them. Glenn's toes got cold even with socks on, so the redneck would press them between his trying to keep them warm. In the mornings Glenn would wake up as early as he needed to so that he could give Daryl kisses as soon as the redneck woke up.

Nothing was safe, but in their makeshift home the only thing they could do was build some kind of love that they both hoped would last longer than anything else. 

The best was when Daryl let him watch him get ready for the day. When the weather had turned cold Glenn had suggested he start wearing leggings. Being able to wear dresses every day the redneck had quickly given up pants altogether. At first he'd looked at Glenn like it was a ridiculous idea, but as soon as the temperatures dropped low he'd buckled. Now those were the first things he put on in the morning. The fact that they molded to his butt and legs so nicely was just the cherry on top for Glenn. He was just happy to see Daryl keeping warm. After that it was a long sleeved t-shirt, then a dress, then a sweater, then a poncho that Glenn had found on a supply run and brought back for Daryl. Once he was dressed, sometimes the redneck would put on some lipstick or do something to his eyes. Some days he was too lazy for it. Either way, he looked happy and comfortable. 

Glenn laid on the mattress watching him slick his lips red. Daryl still used the tube that Glenn had gotten him. It suited him well. 

“Man...I love seeing you get ready.” He murmured, and the redneck snorted.

“That's weird as hell. You get off on me gettin' dressed? Yer supposed to get off on me gettin' undressed ya fool.” Daryl smacked Glenn's leg, and the younger man sat up to pull him into a hug, resting his forehead against the back of Daryl's neck.

“It's not like that. I just liked seeing you happy.” Glenn stroked the redneck's chest through the layers of clothes. Kayla sometimes joked that Daryl should take the same pills that she did so he could fill out his dresses a little better in that area. They'd all had a laugh about it, but Daryl had admitted that he did think about it from time to time, on the days where he felt more feminine than anything else. 

“Still weird.” Daryl tugged Glenn so that they could be face to face and planted a kiss on his forehead, leaving a smear of red. “I gotta go, Carmen's waiting for me.” He hesitated, then placed another kiss, this one not for comedic effect, on the young man's lips. It left a fainter smudge of red. “Love you.” 

“Love you too. Bag us a deer?”

“I'll do my best.” 

Despite having someone to watch his back, Daryl knew that each trip out for the hunt could mean disaster for him. He didn't say it all the time, but he made a point to tell Glenn that he loved him before he went out. Like that in case of the worst, he knew he wouldn't die worried that Glenn didn't know exactly where he stood. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. The redneck knew there was no way in hell he could ever properly thank Glenn for everything he'd done, but he was going to try anyway. 

**

The truck was cramped. It was T-Dog's turn to drive and he wished that Andrea or that woman they'd picked up along the way would've volunteered to sit in the flatbed of the truck. He wasn't about to ask Carol to do that. She deserved to be comfy. Not that the other two didn't, but he felt bad for her. After everything that happened at the quarry, then at the farm...

“Turn here, there's bound to be some stores around.” Andrea spoke up. The dark-skinned woman next to her shifted so that her katana wasn't in between the both of them. T-Dog still wasn't sure if he could trust her. She came off so hard and unfeeling. Though he had caught her gazing at Andrea with a kind of dreamy look in her eyes. So maybe he was wrong.

They rolled up to the mall not knowing where else to go. 

The woman scoffed. “There's no way we're gonna find food here.”

“Come on Michonne.” Andrea squeezed the other woman's knee and T-Dog pretended not to notice. “There's a pharmacy, there's bound to be something useful here.”

Carol gave T-Dog a look. Those two thought they were being discreet, but they weren't. Both Carol and T-Dog had suffered through the noise of their fooling around on more than one night. He parked the car close to one of the entrances. It looked deserted, but he kept his shotgun close and Michonne kept her sword at hand. 

It was a good thing too, because they didn't make it to the doors before a shot rang out and bounced off of the blacktop by their feet.


	20. Chapter 20

“Laura's birthday is coming up.” 

Carmen had a hard time not chatting while she set up snares with Daryl. Daryl had learned to get used to it. At least she kept quiet when they were tracking deer. 

“I really wanna do something special for her. I know that's a tall order, but I really want to try and make her a cake.”

Daryl looked up from the wire he was manipulating into loops. “You can try.”

“Do you think Glenn would be willing to help me find the stuff next time he goes on a run?” Carmen brushed a strand of her choppy dark hair out of her eyes. 

“Gotta ask him. Knowing him though, he won't say no.” Daryl smiled just a little. “He's real kind like that.” 

“He is though! He's seriously one of the nicest dudes I've ever met. Real decent.” Carmen cursed as the wire slipped out of it's loop. “Shit. How come you make this look so easy?”

“Practice.” Daryl was thinking about a joke he could add to that statement when the shot rang out. It was coming from the direction of the mall. They didn't even exchange a word or a look, their feet moved faster than their brains. They'd all decided that they couldn't use the guns unless it was an emergency. The sound of shots would call walkers. A shot meant real danger. It meant Glenn in danger. 

Daryl only heard the sound of his own running feet echoing in his ears as he rushed to the edge of the trees. His crossbow in hand, he skidded to a halt and crouched. He could see a truck and figures in the parking lot. The people had their hands up. A good sign. Maybe. 

“Shit shit shit.” Carmen puffed out. Her short legs made it hard for her to keep up with the redneck, though not many people could keep up with him when his instincts kicked in. 

“Stay down.” Daryl hissed. He kept a small pair of binoculars in his jacket pocket to properly do recon. Once he looked through them and saw exactly who was standing there with their hands up, he almost lost his grip on them.

**

Glenn was on the other side of the roof when he heard the shot. He and Smitty were on watch duty for the morning, which had been as cold and dull as he'd suspected it would be. Walkers drifted by only occasionally, and were doing so even less since it had gotten cold. Glenn had been examining the mechanism of the crossbow Daryl had given him when it happened. He wanted to make sure it was in top notch shape all the time because he knew the redneck would tease him mercilessly if it wasn't. 

But when the shot rang out he tucked it close to his chest and rushed through the solar panels and exhaust vents towards where his friend was standing. The poor kid was shaky from having to shoot. For someone who'd been in the army, he abhorred violence. Even against walkers, which was why Glenn paired up with him for watch duty. He didn't have any qualms about killing them. 

But it wasn't walkers he'd shot at. It was people. And when Glenn saw them, he couldn't contain the shout of surprise and joy that came out of him. 

“ANDREA!” 

The blonde looked up, squinting her eyes, and let out a similar shriek of happiness. She waved her arms maniacally while the rest were keeping still, too shocked and too afraid of another shot in their direction. 

“Smitty, lower your rifle! They're cool.” Glenn slapped his back. “I gotta get down there!”

He ran off, leaving the young man looking confused but with his weapon lowered. Glenn's footsteps echoed as he ran down the service stairwell to the second floor. He only picked up speed as he rushed down to the first and out towards the side of the building that the others had ended up. The door on that side was guarded by Laura, who had the keys. She'd been watching the action unfold.

“What the hell is going on?” She looked to Glenn with confusion painted on her face. “Who are those people?” 

“Old friends. Open the door.” 

“But-we don't-”

“I know them, so does Daryl, I swear to you they're cool.”

Laura bit her lower lip. She always did that when she was nervous. She handed Glenn the keys, and it took barely any time before he was outside and had Andrea in the hardest bear hug he'd ever given someone.

“Oh my God, Glenn!” Andrea sounded like she was about to cry as she let him go. “You're alive!”

“Didn't think I'd ever see your face again man.” T-Dog clapped his back before deciding that hugging was necessary for the moment. Carol didn't wait until T-Dog was done to do the same, sandwiching Glenn between the two of them. 

“Where's Daryl, is he-” Andrea was in the middle of asking when she looked up and saw the redneck jogging towards them. “Oh my God! Michonne, that's who I was telling you about.” 

The dark-skinned woman took a look at him and smiled. “I thought he'd be taller.” 

Before Daryl could get a word out Andrea had him in a hug. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged her back. When she pulled away she took his face in her hands. “You lost the facial hair huh?”

“Yeah.” The redneck looked at the blonde. She looked worse than when he last saw her. 

“Looks good on you. My God I thought I'd never see you or Glenn again.” She let go of Daryl's face and wiped her eyes. 

“None of us did.” Carol looked close to tears as well. Daryl reached out and patted her shoulder. He'd never gotten a chance to get close to her back at the quarry, but he still remembered what her daughter had said when he'd first worn his dress out. She wasn't with them though. 

“C'mon, lets go in. Sorry about the shooting, Smitty didn't realize that y'all were friendly.” Glenn waved them to follow him. 

The group was welcomed into the mall with Glenn calling out to the others who were scattered across the building. They'd found small megaphones in the security offices, and had decided that they would be the best thing to use just in case they were far apart in the mall. Mike and Kayla had been in the food court taking inventory of their food supply. Mike looked baffled by the newcomers, but Kayla wasn't. Instead, wide-eyed, she looked as if she were going to cry.

Stranger was that T-Dog looked the same. Daryl had rarely seen so many people crying at once because they were happy.

“Theo? Oh shit, Theo!” They embraced with sobs and smiles. “Oh Lord thank you Jesus!” 

Daryl watched the scene. Before all of this, he never thought that things could go right. Some days they could though. He glanced at Glenn, their eyes meeting briefly. The younger man slipped from Andrea's embrace and came over to him.

“Talk about all the dumb luck huh?” 

Daryl made a small noise of agreement and grasped the younger man's hand in his own. It seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. 

As they sat down to eat lunch together, stories were exchanged. Glenn told them how they found the mall and how Kayla and the rest found them. T-Dog told them about the end of their stay at the quarry, the disaster at the CDC, the fall of the farm that they'd stayed on. Carol told them how Andrea saved her from walkers by dragging her away and shooting her way through them, only for them to be picked up by T-Dog in the truck. Andrea explained that after that night they'd given up on the others, and gone their separate way, only to meet Michonne. Daryl stared at the reserved woman, trying to figure out what he thought of her. When she smiled at Andrea and put an arm around the blonde he felt a little better. When she smiled at him his cheeks got hot and he averted his gaze. 

Neither Glenn or Daryl were inclined to ask what had happened to Amy, or Ed and Sophia. The mood was too happy to bring up something like that. Neither Carol or Andrea offered details. They didn't really have to. 

Later, Daryl sat with Glenn on the edge of the roof. Daryl was supposed to be keeping watch, but all he could do was stare down at the truck as it was unloaded of their scant belongings before T-Dog parked it right in front of the entrance. 

“It's enough to make you keep some kind of faith, huh?”

“Whaddya mean?” Daryl picked at the hem of his dress. There was a loose thread hanging from it. He pulled it up to his teeth and tore it out with a snap.

“Andrea. T-Dog. Carol. The fact that they found us. It's kind of a miracle that they survived, and that they came here.”

“I suppose.” Daryl didn't put much stock in the idea of miracles. “Shit, it's a miracle any of us are survivin'.”

“Yeah.” Glenn had his arm around Daryl's back, and it radiated warmth. The redneck figured surviving was a good enough goal. In it there could be some happiness. He was happy right now. Tomorrow might be turn out to be full of sadness, but happiness right now was good enough. He smoothed out the skirt of his dress. The concrete was cold under his ass, but Glenn was warm.


	21. Chapter 21

Settle. Settling. For once those words didn't depress Daryl. Settling used to mean staying in a life that he hated, and being a person he didn't recognize. Not anymore. They were settled. In this case, settling meant being safe and amongst people that liked him. 

He didn't like saying that they loved him, because that sounded too weird and it felt like it wasn't true because he was so used to people not loving him. Although when Andrea got drunk from time to time she would slur out that she loved him, Glenn, T-Dog, etc. When she got to Michonne's name she would launch into a veritable recital of drunken love poetry. Sometimes she'd mention names of people that were not with them and she'd cry. He didn't begrudge her that though, even when it meant he had to haul her back to the space she shared with Michonne, her body wobbling as they walked. If it meant surviving, she had the right to drink and weep. 

So he settled. Settled into finding food for the people he lived with and kind of loved. Settled into waking up each morning and getting to see the one person he knew for sure loved him. Settled into helping with whatever needed to be done. Like laundry. The railings in the mall made for good drying racks. Daryl found that he liked doing that chore, it was soothing. Something simple, yet physical. Carol liked it when he helped too, and he found that he liked being around her. She was gentle towards him, and he appreciated that. 

He shook out the water from the sheets before draping them to dry. The snap that they made was satisfying. 

“You haven't asked about him.” 

Carol's words interrupted the satisfying noises. Daryl put the sheet down to dry and wiped his hands on his leggings. He'd worn his black dress and there were wet blooms all over the front of it from wringing out the laundry. 

“I dunno if I want to know.” Daryl sighed. Thinking about Merle only made him the tiniest bit sad. He'd let go of the regret, but there were still moments when he wondered if he'd been wrong to leave his brother behind.

Carol nodded. If he asked, she would tell him how shortly after he'd left, Merle had gotten himself trapped on that roof, and when, out of guilt and because the man who'd locked him up there needed to go back for his guns, they'd tried to go back, he was gone. But if Daryl didn't want to know, she wouldn't say a word. Some things were better not said out loud. If she shared that information, who knows? He might ask her about what happened to Ed and Sophia. 

She twisted the towel in her hands hard. Some things were better left alone. 

As they finished up, the cry for dinner sounded. Today was Laura's birthday. Glenn and Carmen had managed to scrounge up the necessities for a cake, minus the eggs. Kayla and T-Dog kept talking about trying to find live chickens somewhere for just that. It sounded like a long-shot. The cake was plain chocolate, a little strange in it's texture, but Carmen had written out Laura's name in candies on top of it. When the birthday girl saw it she laughed and kissed the shorter woman. It made Daryl happy to witness it. 

He could remember a time when seeing that kind of affectionate display would fill him with despair. It didn't now. And it wasn't just because Glenn was next to him, looking at him with the same kind of love in his eyes. Things didn't hurt so much now. His life wasn't free of pain or sadness, but the specific pain that had been the backdrop of his life for so long was gone. It was enough to make Daryl want to survive and wake up every morning. 

Daryl had stitched together a pouch out of deer hide for Laura. “You can keep the keys in there.”

She strung it around her neck. “Thanks Daryl. I love it.” Her cheeks were flushed and her grin was toothy and wide. The skin around her eyes crinkled, and Carmen kissed her cheek for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

The others shared their gifts and the cake didn't last long. It almost felt like nothing was wrong, even though they were all held things in themselves that were sad. At least the sadness wasn't so strong. At least this was helping them survive. When they drifted off to their respective quarters, Glenn pulled Daryl aside.

“I was gonna save this for your birthday, but I didn't want to wait.” He held out a small box to the redneck. 

“Jesus Christ, if this is a marriage proposal I'm gonna kill you.” Daryl scoffed.

“Oh shut up. It's not that. It's just...something.” Glenn was smiling in that way that made the redneck feel like melting. That big broad smile with his eyes looking down almost bashful like. 

Daryl opened it, and realized that if Glenn had indeed proposed to him he wouldn't have been able to refuse him. He lifted the chain up from the box, and stared at the opal hanging from it. “How the hell...”

“I found it on the last supply run. I just figured you could use something nice just because.”

“Just because huh?” Daryl's voice became soft and he pulled Glenn into an embrace. “Yer real good at that.”

“Damn right. So you like it?” Glenn took the necklace from the redneck's hand and strung it around his neck. The metal of the chain felt cold, so did Glenn's fingers. Daryl took his hands in his and rubbed them. The younger man let out a small sigh. Making Daryl happy was his survival.

“Yeah.” Daryl looked down at the pendant settled against his chest. It was so full of shifting colors and beauty, and it was his. He leaned in and kissed Glenn gently on the lips. “It's perfect.”

**

_In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy- Jenny Holzer_


End file.
